A dangerous Galaxy
by wassersaeufer
Summary: "The galaxy is filled with more diverse species than any one could have imagined. And more dangerous than even the most dreadfull doomsayers would have thought." - This is a Mass-Effect-Multi-Crossover, so if you're interested in turians fighting against orks or asari talking with wookies, read it. - Abandonded -
1. AdG: Timeline

**After reading a lot of Alternate First Contact War stories, I felt the need to write my own. But because I'm crazy, I just don't do things halfway, I change the whole universe, mix in a few other franchises, hit it with a baseball bat and then I throw it into a mixer. **

**Anyway, large parts of the timeline are directly inspired and even sometimes copied from swsf09's story "Collapsing Empires", thus a lot of blame for this craziness is his to have.**

**Okay, Disclaimer:** _None of this is mine, only the idea, and even this is a bit copied, um, inspired from other works, most of all swfs09's "Collapsing Empires"._

**Franchises in this Story (so far):** _Mass Effect, Star Wars, Stargate, Warhammer 40K, Command and Conquer, Alien vs Predator_

* * *

? - The Reapers are created and nearly eradicate the Leviathans, the so far most powerful species in the milky-way galaxy. The circle of destruction begins.

1 Billion years before Common Era (BCE) – The reapers start to create the Citadel as beacon for galactic civilization and as giant trap. An insectoid species falls victim to it and become the caretakers of the Citadel, later called "Keepers". After that the Reapers begin constructing the Mass Relays.

23 Million years BCE – The Old Ones, a benevolent species of intelligent, psychic reptilians, create their vast empire across the Milky Way. They find out about the circle of destruction and try to stop it, to no avail. In a last attempt they plant the seeds of more intelligent life across the whole galaxy. They finally die out after a war lasting longer than ten thousand years, their vast psychic powers making them worthy opponents of the Reapers.

4 Million years BCE – An unknown species creates a perfect hunter species to fight the reaper forces. The created species escapes and wipes out it's creators. They would later be named "Xenomorphs".

967.873 BCE – The Eldar first take to the skies of their home system. They find a cache of knowledge on their first moon, a parting gift from the Old Ones to them, proving that they are not alone in the universe. In the cache is the theory for opening portals into the webways contained, a subspace dimension through which the Eldar can avoid the reaper trap of the Citadel.

949.549 BCE – The Reapers, after eradicating large parts of the galaxy already, arrive to destroy the Eldar. They find a species of psychic masters fighting them to the last man. The Reapers must use immense resources to eradicate the small star realm. Three so called craftworlds, gigantic city like ships, can flee into the webways. The Reapers find out about the cache of the Old Ones and began destroying any similar artifacts throughout the galaxy.

321.094 BCE – An advanced species of aquatic being called the Vorlons find humanity in it's early stages. Interested by their big genetic variety they take a few with them and start experimenting with adjusting them to a different environment.

320.161 BCE – The Vorlons start a massive field test by settling their adjusted humans onto several planets on the other side of the galaxy, watching them and their progress, only one of their projects in genetic engineering.

300.231 BCE – The Reapers destroy the Vorlons and their client species. Most of their experiments remain alive as they have not yet reached a stage of interest for the Reapers.

58.576 BCE – The Protheans emerge from their home world. Exposed to the Xen crystals their evolution reaches unprepared levels and they forge the Prothean Empire throughout the galaxy. Their technological advancement however lead them into the Reaper Trap. They are aware of the Reaper Thread, yet not of the scale of it, and enslave several different species to prepare for the coming war.

50.000 BCE – The Reapers return to the milky way and begin the war against the Protheans. Outmatched by overwhelming power and technology, the Protheans begin creating beacons as warnings for those coming after them.

47.550 BCE – The last heritage of the Old Ones rears it's head. A timer programmed into the genetic code of a multitude of species goes off, beginning an evolutionary jump.

22.621 BCE – On Coruscant a group of adjusted humans become integrated into the society of the Taung, a native bipedal species of warlike nomads. As the two species are actually compatible, thanks to genetic tempering from the Old Ones and the Vorlons, the two races become one in a matter of several thousand years.

11.041 BCE – The Yautja on Yautja Prime, a culture of hunters, develop their first interstellar drive core.

10.657 BCE – The Yautja find the Mass Relay in their System. They begin settling onto several different colonies, yet their population remains slim, as most of them start exploring the galaxy to find new prey. In the same year they develop a cloaking device hiding them not only from sensors but also from prying eyes.

10.289 BCE – A small scout ship from the Eldar begins exploring the Galaxy. They find several different intelligent species in different phases of civilization. The Eldar council of Rune-Seers begin to formulate their plan to defeat the Reapers.

9.932 BCE – The Yautja make contact with the Orks. All details of this first contact outside of date are lost.

9.753 BCE – The Eldar Rune-Seer Uriendal calculate the return of the Reapers through the psychic, enigmatic paths of the future. She leaves the Eldar-Craftworlds with a group of followers to set in motion her great plan.

9.132 BCE – Eldar Rune-Seer Uriendal makes contact with the Orks. She studies them with great interest to use them as tool.

8.709 BCE – A single ork ship crashes onto Coruscant. The following year a flood of green skinned barbarians attack the native Taung who fight for their sheer survival against the flood of enemies.

8.021 BCE – An order of warrior monks forms on Coruscant to fight against the Orks, calling themselves "The Force", using mental discipline, warrior skills and biotic abilities. They act either as advisors, diplomats and generals named Jedi, or assassins, warriors and commandos called Sith.

6.213 BCE – A scouting flotilla of Eldar ships cartograph the complete galaxy, including every Mass Relay and civilized world. They remain undetected.

5.995 BCE – On Coruscant the Orks are finally wiped out by the newly formed Republic. The crashed ship of the Orks is found, a treasure of technology. It is clearly not of Ork origins, as the green skinned aliens had barely been able to use it.

4.207 BCE – The Yautja find pockets of Xenomorph activity in a system of pre industrial civilization phase. They make it their favorite hunting ground.

2.770 BCE – On Varl the caste system of the Hutts collapses after the resources of the planet are exhausted. The planet falls into civil war as a climate catastrophe, speed up by ruthless industrialization, rocks the world.

1.907 BCE – The Krogan of Tuchanka invent their first nuclear bomb. However, the different nations start an arms race for more weapons, creating a society on the brink of annihilation.

1.856 BCE – The Krogan nearly annihilate themselves with their nuclear arms. All that is left are several clans that continue to war over the fallen planet.

1.087 BCE – The eldar council of rune seers reach an consensus in their plan to fight the reapers. They begin manipulating species seen as lower than themselves to form a galaxy ready for war.

1.045 BCE – The Asgard of Orilla uncover, unknown to them guided by the Eldar, a prothean outpost in their arctic circle. Several working beacons are inside of it.

580 BCE – The Asari of Thessia develop space flight. Using the Mass Relays they find the Citadel.

547 BCE – The Asgard of Orilla find the Citadel and the Asari.

519 BCE – The Salarians of Sur'Kesh find the Citadel. Together with the Asari and the Asgard they form the Citadel Council to watch over the galaxy and keep the peace.

500 BCE – The Citadel Accords are signed by the Asari, the Asgard and the Salarians. The Citadel Council would remain an independent government and pass laws to protect the galactic society as a whole.

473 BCE – The Turians of Palaven begin using the Mass Relays but do not discover the Citadel. They soon face rebellion in their outer colonies. The Unification War begins.

435 BCE – The Volus make contact with the Citadel. They help establish a galactic currency and become a client race of the Citadel.

434 BCE - The first light-swords are created on Coruscant and made signature weapons for "The Force".

431 BCE – The turian Unification War ends when a fleet of mismatched ships appear in turian space using an unknown form of FTL-Travel. The fleet is an Ork-Waagh which attacks the Turians in an all out war.

410 BCE – The Hutt leave Varl and relocate to the planet Evocal, bought from the native Vorcha for pieces of Hutt technology. The Hutt Budhila Hestilic Amura publishes his ideas for a new Hutt society, based on the idea of competition among the clans for power but without the use of open warfare and territorial conquest in favor for commerce and control from the shadows. The Council of Elders is established as ruling body of the huttese clans. They rename Evocal into Nal Hutta. The Vorcha will over time become the servants of the Hutt.

407 BCE – The Asgard begin experimenting in cloning after a plague has diminished their numbers.

402 BCE – By pure luck, or in this case an Eldar trick, a withdrawing turian fleet finds a heavily fortified system populated by a humanoid species calling themselves Dawi, their home planet called Khaz-Gar. The Dawi and Turians form a mutual defense treaty against the Orks.

383 BCE – The Batarians of Kar'Shan discover the Citadel and become a client race, though the Council is unhappy with their slave holding society, but they do not interfere in "internal affairs".

365 BCE – The Terminus systems form from those that do not want to be ruled by Citadel authority. The station Omega is made the defacto capital of the Terminus systems.

364 BCE – The last remnants of the Orks in turian space are obliterated as turian ships, now equipped with better weapons and armor of dawi origin, destroy the last remaining flotilla.

347 BCE – The Hutt make contact with the Citadel. Though they do not wish to become a client race they open a trading enclave on the Citadel, de facto acting as embassy. They form good trade relationships with the Batarian Hegemony.

317 BCE – The Asari discover the Elcor of Dekunna. They assist the Elcor in finding their own mass relay and joining the Citadel. The Elcor join the Citadel as a client race.

309 BCE – The Taung on Coruscant launch their first colonization attempt of their moon. The space ship explodes while still in orbit, creating a political backlash that plunges the planet after nearly 6.000 years of peace into armed conflict, the Civil War.

301 BCE – The first asgard consciousness is transplanted from one dying body into a cloned one.

298 BCE – The Hanar of Kahje discover the mass relay network and the Citadel. They are made a client race.

281 BCE – The Civil War on Coruscant ends and a new social order, the Empire, emerges under the leadership of a Supreme Chancellor. „The Force" are declared a terrorist organization and all members branded as enemies of the state.

257 BCE – The Quarians of Rannoch discover the mass relay network and the Citadel. They join as a client race.

184 BCE – The favorite hunting ground of the Yautja is overrun by the Xenomorphs. The Yautja bomb the planet from orbit to destroy any chance of survival for the Xenomorphs. Nothing survives. The Yautja once again begin traveling the galaxy looking for worthy prey. In the following centuries they will be sighted on nearly every planet holding intelligent life, though never revealing themselves.

28 BCE – The Asari discover the Wookiees of Kashyyyk. They join the citadel as a client race.

7 BCE – A series of attacks on imperial ships and facilities in the Taung Empire weakens the hold off the Supreme Chancellor. A second civil war breaks out in imperial space.

0 BCE/CE – Start of Common Era. The Empire on Coruscant is overthrown and is replaced by the Republic, protected once again by the Jedi and the Sith. A comet crashed into the planet of Terra, bringing with it the spores of a small crystalline substance.

1 CE – The Citadel races discover the Rachni. The Rachni prove to be an aggressive species and attack the scouts. The Rachni then travel through the original relay back to Citadel space. The Rachni Wars begin.

80 CE – The Council uplift the Krogan. The Krogan were seen as a tough species that could survive the apocalyptic environments of the Rachni worlds. The Krogan begin to push the Rachni back.

291 CE – The Rachni Wars end. The Rachni are declared extinct. The Krogan are rewarded a number of worlds to settle and expand.

466 CE – On Terra a man named Tiberius find the first forms of mysterious growing crystals, naming it after himself: Tiberium.

502 CE – The Ork-Waagh Gaufang comes out of the Terminus Systems and carve a bloody path through Citadel Space.

509 CE – The Krogan finally defeat the Orks on the surface of Tuchanka and end Ork-Waagh Gaufang.

650 CE – The Krogan begin to expand at an aggressive pace. They even start to annex worlds under Citadel control. The Citadel Council creates the Spectres in response to Krogan expansion.

698 CE – The Krogan annex the Asari world of Lusia. The Spectres launch an operation to cripple the Krogan. The operation is successful, but the Krogan discover it. The Krogan Rebellions begin.

703 CE – The Citadel Council makes contact with the Turians. The Turians agree to fight the Krogan. In response, the Krogan start to use WMDs on Turian worlds. The Turians respond with a stance on total war. The Dawi join the Citadel as Client race while still remaining their partnership with the Turians.

711 CE – The Salarians create the genophage, a virus to make Krogan birthrates decline. The Turians release the genophage on the Krogan. Krogan population declines sharply.

800 CE – The Krogan Rebellions end with the Krogan scattered. The Krogan were a broken people that had returned to warring clans. Turians have the largest fleet in Citadel space and are declared the peacekeepers of the Citadel.

832 CE – The Tau from T'auva make contact with the Turians. They try to annex the turian forces into their realm as part of the greater good, without knowing what they're up against. The turian military responds with invasion of every colony and the Tau homeworld.

839 CE – The Tau are put down and joined to the Turian Hierachy as client race. They join the Citadel as a client race.

850 CE – The Turians are seen as the most powerful military in Citadel space and join the Citadel council. The Volus seek protection status under the Turians. They become a client race of the Turians.

1.058 CE – The asgard scientist Loki detects first signs of deterioration in the cloned bodies of the Asgard. Further cloning ist put on hold by the Asgard High Council.

1.119 CE – The Batarian Hegemony makes violent first contact with the Taung Republic as they were given a world for colonization from the Citadel Council without knowing that it is already a colony of the Republic.

1.120 CE – The Batarian Hegemony launches its complete second fleet to deal with these new aliens. In the beginning of 1.120 CE they attack the colony Corriban. The Republic responses with all out war, yet is pushed into the defensive.

1.121 CE – Cloning is outlawed in Citadel Space outside of medical research and for organ transplants.

1.123 CE – After three years of brutal fighting the Batarian Hegemony and the Republic sign a peace treaty, aided by the Citadel. Only the threat of turian fleets attacking hegemony space had forced this peace. Relationships remain strained. The Republic makes contact with the Citadel but refuses to become a client race as long as the Hegemony is one.

1.287 CE – Ork-Waagh Grimgork attacks Orilla. Large parts of the surface are destroyed before turian and asgard forces can destroy the Waagh. The Asgard, already a race of small numbers, become an endangered species.

1.400 CE – The Drell enter the industrial age. However the Drell home world had limited amounts of resources and many nations were desperate to gain them. The Drell Resource Wars begin.

1.420 CE – Ork-Waagh Butchcap attacks the Hegemony. The defending patrol fleets and border colonies are overrun in a manner of days.

1.431 CE – The Collectors are sighted in the Terminus systems, though most dismiss them as rumors.

1.432 CE – The Citadel Council debates if they should help the Batarian Hegemony or not. The salarian and asari councilors are manipulated by the Eldar and thus no agreement is possible. The turian seventh and twelfth fleet are send to secure the borders.

1.439 CE – The batarian Core-Worlds come under attack.

1.440 CE – A mercenary fleet sponsored by the Hutt intervenes in the Batarian-Ork-War. Together with these allies the Batarians begin pushing the Orks back.

1.443 CE – Ork-Waagh Butchcap breaks apart. The Hegemony withdraws from the Citadel.

1.457 CE – The Taung Republic joins the Citadel as a client race.

1.628 CE – The Quarians create the Geth as cheap labor. Though the Geth may seem intelligent, the Quarians only installed VI matrixes into the Geth.

1.700 CE – The Terrans of Terra enter the industrial age.

1.744 CE – A group of Yauntja Predators are hunting a group of Xenomorphs on an abandonded jungle planet holding prothean ruins. The Xenomorphs kill nearly every member of a small team of archealogists before nearly being wiped out themselves. A single Xenomorph manages to flee on board the small asari vessel of the archeological team. The Yauntja follow the trail.

1.749 CE – The asari Samara manages to earn the respect of the Yauntja after she killed several Xenomorphs in the bowels of Thessia. She is given an honor mark on her neck and a trophy in form of a Xenomorphs head.

1.800 CE – The Humans of Earth enter the industrial age.

1.890 CE – The Geth gain sentience and begin to question their existence. The Quarians, realizing that they have created an AI, begin to exterminate the Geth. The Geth retaliate. The Morning War begins.

1.895 CE – The Quarians are completely expunged from their home world, ending the Morning War. The Migrant Fleet forms from the remnants of the Quarians. They plead to the Citadel to help them reclaim their homeworld. The Council evicts them from the Citadel as punishment for the creation of an AI.

1.901 CE – Several Ork Waaghs all over the galaxy threaten the stability of citadel space. The Turian Hierachy begin drafting other species into their military operations as auxiliary forces.

1.903 CE – The Terrans of Terra begin using Tiberium as source for energy. A man named Kane creates a fast growing cult, the Brotherhood of Nod, it's theology and philosophy centered around the green crystal. Political tensions are rising across the whole planet.

1.913 CE – The Global Defense Initiative (GDI) on Terra declares the Brotherhood of Nod a terrorist organization and begin a war against terror. It is called the First Tiberium War.

1.918 CE – A salarian scientist mission find the homeworld of the Yauntja. The small ship is destroyed in minutes, yet it manages to send a last message to the Citadel. A month later a small asari fleet with an asari matriarch on board arrives to establish formal first contact. They are also killed. The system is put under quarantine.

1.921 CE – The First Tiberium War on Terra ends, Kane is proclaimed dead. The Brotherhood of Nod is splintered into smaller groups.

1.927 CE – The salarian STG uncovers the nature of the Yauntja and their presence all over the galaxy.

1.931 CE – Kane reveals himself to be alive on Terra and unites the Brotherhood of Nod once again. The Second Tiberium War begins. By now Tiberium covers more than 30% of the planet and is growing. The first Tiberium weapons are put into use.

1.935 CE – A joint fleet of huttese and batarian ships, together with an armada of pirates, attack the Yauntja. The Yauntja prefer to kill themselves using bombs than to be captured as slaves. The Yauntja homeworld and colonies are left radioactive wastelands. The Citadel Council cast the Hutt out from the Citadel but are otherwise unable to do anything.

1.936 CE – The Second Tiberium War on Terra ends, again Kane is proclaimed dead.

1.947 CE – The Eldar abduct several members of different species and turn them into agents of the Rune-Seers.

1.952 CE – Rune-Seer Uriendal manipulate several Ork clans into uniting into one massive Waagh. Ork-Waagh Wulgark travel using unknown technology and arrive deep inside batarian space.

1.960 CE – Ork-Waagh Wulgark desolates the Batarian Hegemony before being destroyed. The Hutt nearly bankrupt the Hegemony by selling them merchants and Vorcha troops.

1.961 CE – A salarian scout ship is attacked by an eldar frigate and crashes onto Terra. The wreckage is found by members of the Brotherhood of Nod.

1.969 CE – Humanity sends its first men to their single moon, Luna.

1.971 CE – The Batarian Hegemony collapses under the weight of civil revolts, commercial crisis and slave uprisings. The Military takes control.

1.972 CE – On Terra Kane reveals himself to be alive. Tiberium covers more than 60% of the planets surface. The Brotherhood of Nod attack the GDI once more, this time using tiberium based weapons and mass effect technology backengineered from salarian technology.

1.978 CE – The Union of Batarian Planets is founded, a totalitarian state ruled by the military, consisting of most of the former Hegemony space. Some colonies remain indipendent.

1.980 CE – The Asari Aria T'Loak assumes control of Omega.

1.998 CE – The Hutt Jabba, de facto ruler of the indipendent colony of Tatooine, proclaims himself the most powerful individual in the Terminus, contesting over the title with Aria T'Loak.

2.004 CE – The last city defended by the GDI is conquered by the Brotherhood of Nod, now the ones controlling Terra. Kane proclaims himself „The Prophet of the Children" and his power absolute.

2.054 CE – The Brotherhood of Nod found several colonies in their star system. They find the Mass Relay network.

2.090 CE – The Hanar discover the Drell. They start to evacuate the Drell from their dying homeworld.

2.107 CE – Humanity begin constructing their first settlement on Luna.

2.125 CE – The Yahg are discovered by the Citadel. The DMZ is put in place after the diplomatic team is slaughtered. The Shadow Broker acquires one for his own uses as Agent Kelchu.

2.148 CE – Humanity find prothean ruins on Mars. Humanity finds Charon Relay at Pluto.

2.157 CE – A citadel patrol fleet find an unknown species trying to open a dormant Relay.

* * *

So, this is the beginning of my own version of a massive Mass-Effect-Mash-Up. There are a lot of different species from different fandoms, though all "Mass Effected", as I want the universe still having a feeling of the games we have played and loved. Thus though there are other species and even some different forces and possibilities at work here, it will still be a dimension build around the Mass Effect technology.

A small overview of the forces CURRENTLY in this universe:

**The Citadel Council** - Turians, Asari, Salarians (all from the Mass Effect franchise), Asgard (hailing from Stargate)

**Citadel Client Races** – Hanar + Drell, Elcor, Volus, Taun (Star Wars), Wookie (Star Wars), Dawi (Fantasy), Tau (Warhammer 40K)

**Turian Hierachy Client Races** – Volus, Tau

**Indipendent Species** – Krogans, Batarians, Quarians, Geth, Vorcha, Humanity, Orks (Warhammer 40K), Hutt (Star Wars), Brotherhood of Nod (Command and Conquer Universe), Eldar (Warhammer 40K), Yauntja (AvP), Xenomorphs (AvP)

You see, it's a very big colourful universe filled with life and danger to the brim.


	2. Chapter 1: A mysterious people

**Well, let's go. Some parts of this first chapter where heavily inspired by the Command and Conquer / Mass Effect Crossover "Eagle's Fall" as I think it as a very entertaining, interesting read, showing the Turian Military as the aggressors, yet not as the Bad Guys. Anyway, thanks to Charnobyl for allowing me to borrow some of his ideas and stealing, um, getting inspired by his work.**

* * *

**Day 1**

Obata Quatar was the first individual that died in the conflict that was to be known as the first contact war. A member of a family known for their military service it had never been a question what she would become, but of course a soldier.

As her eyesight was not good and she was a small woman she had been seen unfit for service in the ground forces, so she had enlisted in the Navy and served as a member of the bridge crew on a small frigate by the time of her death. Not that she had been on the bridge at that time, but in her sleeping quarters dreaming of the cute technician down in engineering which whom she had a date tomorrow.

When the alarm sirens blared through the ship she shot up from her bunk, hitting her head against the underside of the bunk above her. Cursing under her breath she climbed down from her bed and grabbed her uniform pants, when an explosion rocked the ship. A volley of turian shots had hit the unprepared ship dead center, ripping through the shields and the armor. She did not notice it anymore, as the explosion vaporized her.

Seconds later the whole ship was engulfed in a massive fireball.

* * *

General Artanis was not a vain man. He knew his skills and his limitations as well as his flaws and talents, and while he was a proud man, he had every reason to be so, he kept care never to grow too proud. He had given his subordinates the command to give him their honest opinion when he did something they thought stupid. Not that it happened often, mostly because he did seldom anything that was stupid and because it was an unusual command. Turians don't criticize their superiors, they do what they are told, thus his command staff had some problems calling out his failures.

While he stood on the command bridge of his flag ship, a battleship named "Victory's Lance", he studied the small colored world that was shown on the holographic display in front of him. It was a lush garden world, rich with life and resources, as his scanners were showing, populated by estimated twenty million people. People he knew nothing of except that they were his enemy for the moment.

The space battle above the colony, as he was sure that this was NOT the species home-world, had been short and brutal. Twenty-something small frigate like ships just stood no chance against the full might of the third Turian fleet. Not that they had put up much of a fight, as soon as the superior turian forces had come into the system the smaller vessels had started a fast retreat, showing that despite their inferior technology they had great agility and speed. Still, it had been a slaughter, the debris of the crippled vessels now drifting in space.

Artanis stood ramrod straight on his command post, not moving an inch, watching and studying the planet in front of him. Finally he sighed inwardly and turned to his second in command. "Signal the fleet to deploy the ground forces."

He did not like the idea of sending his men into unknown territory against an unknown enemy, yet he had no choice in the matter. He had his orders and those were to subjugate this system, no matter the costs. The Hierarchy feared a second Rachni-War or a species like the Orks, thus this swift and direct response to the activation of the dormant relay. Killing an enemy in it's infancy state before it could become a full thread.

He still could not help to feel a growing, dreadful grumble in his stomach. At least he was happy to have the most advanced forces of the known universe under his command, freshly equipped with heavy dawi weaponry, new infantry and vehicle armour, better sensors and the best shields money could buy. Actually, the shields were not to buy at all but only for military use. All this in the hands of the best soldiers of the Citadel. The only weakness was possible faulty intelligence and the leadership of course.

* * *

When the Turian forces landed on the biggest spaceport of the colony they had been ready to face heavy resistance. Drop ships all but crashed from orbit, the Storm Troopers moving out of them with great speed and discipline, securing the area into all directions. What they have not been ready for was no resistance at all. No automated defense turrets, no infantry defending the port, no anti air turrets, nothing.

Palar Severun was not a veteran like many of his comrades. He was a rather fresh young soldier in the ranks of the Storm Troopers, one of the special infantry forces deployed in this conflict. With only 24 years of age he was unusually young for such a post, but his service record spoke for itself and as he had pushed for his advancement into this unit, he had been given the opportunity after a small conflict with an Ork band in which he had held his position against overwhelming forces.

Clad in his dark grey and black armor, a special alloy that changed colour depending on the surroundings and thus gave limited visual cover, and with his assault rifle in hands he stood on the side of the landing platform and watched the heavy tanks being unloaded. Like most of his own equipment, large parts of the vehicles had produced in factories on Khaz-Gar, the home planet of the Dawi. Since the fatefull meeting more than two thousand circles ago, the Turian Hierarchy and the Dawi Association, the two governments had excelent relations and the Turian military was mostly outfitted with equipment forged in Dawi fabrics.

At the moment Palar was leaning against an abandoned crate holding foods, he had checked, and was wrecking his brain for what was possible to come. The people of this world were most likely around as big as turians, the doors and windows in the nearby spaceport building were indicating this. They were also fond of black and red colours, in different shades of course, and no stand up fighters, otherwise they would have stayed and defended their world from bein invaded from the very beginning.

"Something stinks here", he heard over comm and just nodded slightly. The voice belonged to an older member of the unit, a man who had fought against mercenaries, pirates, slavers and Orks, who had seen a lot in his thirty years of service to the Hierarchy. "No sane species would just give up such an important position."

Of course Palar thought the same. Beside of stripping the port of anything useful and smashing the computers, the people of this world had just abandoned the space port and all but served it to the turian forces. Something was not adding up. Perhaps they had no ground forces and were hoping for reinforcements?

He shifted his weight and saw one of the massive Troga-Tanks, named after a fierce and massive herbivore from Palaven, when the sensors in his helmet lit up, alarms barred into his ears and all around him people were jumping out of their skin. Everyone with a working omni tool was linked into the sensor network that had been set up by the storm troopers after landing and securing the area. And everyone with a working omni tool now saw that he was screwed.

"Oh Spirits...", someone mumbled, but it was drowned out in the sound of a massive explosion of green flames that engulfed the whole space port. With a force unknown to the turians beforehand they were ripped to shreds. Equipment, war vehicles, landing crafts, troops, weapons, supplies, everything in the center of the spaceport was all but eradicated from the face of the planet, everything a bit more away held out for a quarter of a second longer.

* * *

**Day 3**

Three days. Three freaking days on this spirit damned rock. Three freaking days on this spirit damned rock without any enemy fire but booby traps over booby traps under booby traps. Mines on the roads, vehicles that had been rigged to explode, automated turrets hidden inside buildings or under rubble, sinkholes entrapping heavy vehicles but nothing lighter than that. The officers were going crazy and so were the soldiers. And still no contact with the local defenders.

The fifth brigade of the third's fleet landing forces was a heavy brigade, consisting of light and heavy tanks, armored personal carriers and heavy infantry equiped with a vast amount of different weaponry. Nearly one thousand men and women were part of the brigade, but since the beginning of this operation they had lost about fifty of these soldiers to lethal traps. Still, more luck than the ninth brigade, which had been nearly anhiliated in the botched landing on the single major space port. What kind of lunatic species would blow up their single space port?

Apparently that sort of species that would go to all length to hinder their enemies. The tactic of burned earth was not unknown to the Turians, but it was very uncommon on the first hand and never been encountered on such a large scale on the second.

For three days the fifths brigade had been crawling forward, their fast spear point attack hindered by natural and unnatural hazards. The thick forest of the planet was not the best environment for such a force, but with the loss of the one major landing zone the turian army had been forced to adapt and land further outside of the major settlement region. General Artanis had not been willing to jeopardize his forces by shipping them directly into the most likely heaviest defended region, thus the long way to the battle field.

Tona Arcotos bit into his energy bar and chewed on it with a ferocity that belied his calm demeanor. He was unnerved, more than that. He could live with losses, people die in a war, that's the nature of battle, but it was unworthy of soldiers to die by booby troops. It just felt wrong. Sitting on one of the Troga-Tanks he held his pulse rifle in one hand and his energy bar in the other, always on the look out for possible enemy movements. His eyes scanned the surroundings all the time, like his scanning device did and the sensors of every vehicle in the brigade. Not that he believed to find something, why should they come out now when they had not shown themselves for three full days?

Their enemies were clever little barefaces, but no fighters, so much was clear. The brigade had passed small buildings and a few villages, everything abandoned and robbed blind of anything useful. And filled with traps. He had seen a comrade of his opening a door and being encased in a burning substance that had reduced him to ashes and another time a small cottage had blown up in a spectacular explosion as soon as a heavy tank was near it, killing three soldiers and damaging the tank beyond repair.

Again he bit into his energy bar, still tasting like cooked by a blind Krogan, and chewed on it. Then everything went to the hells.

One second he was watching a colourful bird sitting on a tree, clad in a bright blue and pink feather dress, when someone screamed: "INCOMING!"

Acting out of reflexes born from years of training he immediately had his pulse rifle in hand and the safety off, sliding from the tank and finding himself on the dirty street. His omni tool was going crazy, flooded with signals from the complete sensor net, then the first explosion hit. A rocket came literally out of nowhere and hit a transport vehicle full force into the side, shaking it but not destroying it. It was only one of many.

Return fire ripped through the air and only seconds later the full brigade had opened fire against their invisible enemies, aided by the heat sensors off the few Troga-Tanks. Bullets tore through personal shields and armor and then into turian flesh, blood splattered, brain matter was spilled onto the street, explosions rocked the ground. Then the anti-infantry weaponry of the tanks opened fire.

Twenty-seven pulse turrets turned around, VIs calculated the data from the sensors, heat and optical both, and then began to pump enough firepower into the underbrush to shred nearly anything to pieces. Of course they did not fire at the same time, a few fired before cooling off, then another set fired and began to cool off, then the remaining turrets and then the cycle repeated. It was brutal, precise and calculated and one of the most beautiful sights Tona had ever seen. It was simply overwhelming.

It was all over a few seconds later, when the enemy fire stopped and a few moments after that the turrets turned off. Tonas helm display did no longer show any heat signatures in front of him, which was strange, as at least the dying should be cool off before disappearing from his display. He waited a few more seconds, then he stood up and checked his pulse rifle for damage, after that his armor and shields. Nothing.

He had been lucky. The poor sods in one of the personal carriers not, but at least they had not felt much pain, so much was clear by the sight of their burned out corpses. A dawi made troop carrier was sturdy and hardy, equipped with good shields and heavy armor, but against no less than four rockets hitting it against the side, it had no chance. Green fire engulfed the last remains of the tank and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Tonas turned away.

A small prayer he send to the spirits while internally thanking the Dawi for their ingenious designs and craftmanship. Other than the salarian equipment or that used by the asari or asgard, the other three council species, the armed forces of the Turian Hierarchy relied heavily on their long time allies, the short and stout Dawi. They build equipment like no other species in the known galaxy, reliable, effective and extremely well made. Special alloys for weapons, light and yet sturdy, or vehicle armor, heavy and even more sturdy, advanced weaponry VI's for better aiming, an advanced an versatile communications network to help teamwork and be able to see any information needed.

That was one of the main reasons why the turian armed forces were so feared and effective. Why they had been able to push back the Krogan despite inferior numbers and weaker bodies. Why they had been able to keep the Orks in check and the Hutts and Batarians were nearly docile when dealing with the Council.

The officer in command of the battalion hit, a Colonel, ordered several small squadrons to scout into the underbrush to look for remains. As Tona was part of one such squadron he sighed slightly and turned around, nodding to his squad once and then delving into the underbrush.

They did not have to look long.

Between several trees they found the remains of a bipedal, five fingered creature, clad in armor that had the same colour and structure as the ground it lay on, a mix of brown and green, slightly shifting, a cloaking armor. No wonder they were this hard to spot. "They kinda look like Asari", a squadmate mumbled while leaning down and turning the corpse around with a claw.

A low whistle filled the air, coming from the corpse, then a green explosion.

Tona was thrown through the air and only his shields saved him from certain, fiery death. Whatever it was that these creatures used for their explosives, it was potent, as it had just again killed two soldiers of the Turian Hierarchy.

* * *

**Day 6**

It had only been a question of time before his forces were attacked by defending forces, most likely militias. General Artanis stood over the holographic display of the main colonies settlement and the surrounding areas, including his forces and suspected enemy movements. The keyword being suspected, as the sensor data was unclear and sometimes total rubbish. Something was interfering with their scanners, hiding large parts of information beside the obvious from the Turians, a cloaking device of some sort. Or a lot of them.

Artanis would have clenched his teeth if he were a human, but as a turian, he only moved his mandibles in an annoyed, strenuous manner. He was not happy with the state of the war. The advance of his forces had been slowed down to a crawl, the more his men advanced on the city, the more they were attacked by guerilla forces. Heavily equipped guerilla forces, using high energy explosives of unknown configuration, cloaking devices, personal armor and shielding, grenades, mines, defense turrets and even hand held laser weaponry. Only his most hardened and heaviest troops had been able to make good progress, but even they had been slowed down and met with heavy resistance.

The longer this conflict kept in, the more Artanis got the feeling that he was engaging an enemy unlike any other he had seen before. They were neither like the Krogans nor the Rachni, who had pushed against their enemies with overwhelming numbers and hardyness, and not like the Orks either, fighting with brutal ferocity and wildness. More like Asari or Salarians, sly and cunning, striking from the dark and then running before gunned down by superior numbers, yet with the discipline of Turians. A dangerous combination.

"Lieutenant, order the first, second and third brigade to pull back and be ready for further orders. Send orders to the fourth, fifth and sixth brigade to stop their advance", he ordered and his communications Lieutenant saluted and turned around, getting to work at his station. His smaller forces were being hit too hard, so he had to change tactics. "And send new orders to the seventh to twelfth brigade. Order them to combine their forces at these coordinates."

After typing in the coordinates, an open area about ten miles outside the main settling, most likely farm land, he turned around and left his command post. Giving one of his men a gesture to follow him he strode out of the bridge and into his ready room, positioned behind the bridge and next to the communication room. There he pulled out two glasses and a bottle of brandy from a small glass cabinet. "You want one?"

"Yes, thank you General", was the answer from his third in command, Brigadier General Adrien Victus, and the offered glass was taken with a claw. Both turians then sat down at the heavy desk, Artanis behind it, Victus on the other side. Then the lower ranking turian said with a grim sarcasm in his voice: "Well, to a new enemy, showing us new ways of fighting."

That was one of the reasons why he had raised Victus to his current rank, the ability to see things from a different angle. Turian officers tended to do things certain ways, becoming quite predictable after a time. Adrien Victus, a Major when he had first met him, was one of the few soldiers that were able to think off tactics further than those written in the handbook and the obvious "Push-With-All-Your-Power".

Artanis snorted but raised his glass too, then taking a sip. "What do we know so far of this new enemy?"

"They are a bipedal, five fingered species with a biology based on levo-amino acids. They are fond of explosives and mines and their structures are mostly dome-like buildings with additions, build more into the earth than on it", Victus answered, his voice sober and stern, before he added with a hint of anger: "And they are hammering us."

"But we are yet to see heavy vehicles and air crafts", the General said while studying his brown beverage instead of looking at his subordinate. "I'd say they make so much use of cloaking devices and hit and run tactics, that they just can't meet us in a straight up battle without facing certain defeat."

"Or they are just really good at the things they're doing and have no desire to do so."

Artanis knew that this was a good possibility, as the heavy, bunker like structures of the main settlement indicated a population that was ready for war any time. In his experience, no one builds such structures to live in when in times of peace and prosperity. If he were a betting man, he would have set his money on a highly militaristic culture they were facing, but one using underhanded tactics and tricks in warfare instead of the ones turians were used to. Perhaps they had a very violent history? Possible.

"How many bombers do we have ready for deployment?", he then asked suddenly and changed the topic. He of course knew the answer, but perhaps it was a test for Victus if he would find out what his intentions were from this. Perhaps it was only a way of making conversation.

"Three full echelons of space-worthy bombers are only waiting for the order General. Four echelons of planetary ones will be set up in thirteen more hours." The Brigadier General took a sip from his brandy, enjoying the taste, before saying: "You want to bomb the way free for our men?"

"Yes", Artanis answered, still without looking at him. "We will combine our bomber squadrons with artillery bombardment to clean the way for our ground forces. If we can't open the door, then we will use the battering ram."

* * *

**Day 8**

A mighty thunder filled the air and several soldiers shuddered slightly at the heavy sound, yet otherwise they remained unresponsive. Again a mighty thunder, then another one. The five squads of massive artillery tanks type Garda were deployed about ten miles behind the front lines, at least what could be considered a front line, and were restlessly firing their heavy bombardment into the enemy territory. With every shot the twenty feet long main weapon system on the back of the tank body was pushed back, pressing the vehicles into the muddy ground and only remaining standing thanks to the stabilization systems. Not only through a mass effect core, but also thanks to simple steel pillars buried halfway into the ground to support the vehicle.

Dressed in extremely light armor and her trusty Archon visor on her head, Lieutenant Narees Kandus sat in the cockpit of her Garda artillery tank, listening with one ear to the music from her omni tool and with the other watching out for new orders. To her left her subordinate Sergeant Joram Sondai was busy with fiddling around with the stabilization systems, trying to improve the accuracy of their weapon system even more by reducing the backlash. Would she have been a human, she would have rolled with her eyes, as she knew that the mass effect field was as good as it could ever be, but as a turian she just ignored it.

The heavy cannon on the back of their sleek tank fired again, the mighty rumble run through the vehicle and the cockpit like always, lamps lit up and information ran across the holographic monitors and her visor. Just like always. Narees thought it a mind blowing boring job, firing at an area and burning down a forest instead of leveling buildings or taking out enemy positions, but she had her orders and as any good turian she did what she was ordered to do. Thanks to her inadequate shooting skills and physical performance compared to most of her agemates she had become a tank operator, skilled in the operation of several heavy weapon systems and even make small repairs on them, though she lacked the skills for any serious fiddling with them. For three years she had been trained on the Garda-Wank-Weapon-System before being allowed into the standing forces and not once had she been in a battle before.

Sometimes she wished that she could be at the front lines, seeing at what she was shooting, but then she recalled the sights of the craters her button-pushing, as some of her fellow soldiers sometimes joked, leaves behind. Yes, it was good being a button pusher, at least sometimes. Like right now. She could listen to music, be free of danger from enemy fire and do her job in peace, helping the Hierachy to bring peace to a small, backwood species that though they were the masters of the universe.

In the corner of her eye she noticed movement and turned her head, only to see several of the other soldiers lounging around, most likely enjoying a small pause for the moment. She did no know why there had to be a whole brigade to protect the artillery position, it was unlikely that the primitives would attack them. But General Artanis was not someone to take chances, so he had ordered his artillery forces to be protected by the fourteenth brigade, a mixed bunch of pioneer, engineer and heavy infantry units, normally deployed to build encampments and fortify positions.

Narees snorted at the fact that the primitives of this planet had been able to slow down the advance of the Turian Juggernaut so much. Again the thunder from her canon came and in a dulled echo she could hear some other Garda-Cannons fire but it had nearly become a background noise to her. Something like this happens when there are fifteen tanks all firing over long amounts of time in concert.

Suddenly the sergeant on her right turned tense. She knew that something was up before he opened his mouth, alone from his position and posture, but it surprised her none the less. "Enemy movement."

"What?"

* * *

They came over the turian position like a pack of angry raptors, moving faster than it should have been possible for a miliary unit. Speeding from the underbrush in the rear of the turian forces they used sleek motorcycles with twin miniature rocket launchers and agile buggies to cross the distance between their cover and the enemy line. Defense fire was sparse and though some of the bipedal attackers fell to it, most crossed the distance in a matter of seconds without a scratch and engaged the turians in a lethal, brutal close up fight.

Though superior in numbers and equipment, the turians have not been prepared for such an attack and had literally caught with their pant's down, only having about twenty seconds before the fight began and the first shots were fired. The dug in artillery vehicles were defenseless on their own and though they had been prepared for defensive actions, the Turian officers had not been prepared to be hit from the back, from a direction which should have been secured. And watched.

All these facts were blown out of the mind of Narees, as she read the readings and the messages on her screen with frantic, growing panic. A red and black blur sped past her window and fired something from a mounted anti infantry turret, some sort of pulse weapon, yet firing green bullets. Or something alike. There was screaming and alarm sirens all around her, the shielding of her tank lit up as it was hit by enemy fire, most likely only grazing shots from assault rifles or the like.

Narees felt panic rising up in her and gripping her heart. Her tank was not made to withstand heavy enemy fire, only marginally protected by shielding and armor and not having any weapon systems beside the massive artillery cannon right on top of her, making her a sitting duck in the middle of the fight. She only had her sidearm with her and wasn't even dressed in proper armor but in a uniform, without a damn personal shield and only the slightest protection.

Something exploded against the shields of her tank, draining it of nearly twenty percent power, and Sergeant Sondai yelped a surprised curse. It felt like the two turians were right inside a bubble of borrowed time, unable to do anything, while outside the real fighting was done. Their comrades doing their duty, protecting them, shooting primitives, dying.

Narees did the only thing she could think of. With a practiced, routined movement of her left arm she activated her omni tool again and started listening to her music again, while returning to her duty of bombing the way free for her advanced forces. Again a rocket hit the shields and drained them at a dangerous level, yet she tried to ignore it and just calculated the track of her high power ammunition, before shooting. The cannon fired, the tank shuddered, people were dying and soldiers were doing their duty.

* * *

**Day 18**

The might of the Turian Hierarchy had brought victory in more battles than anyone except the most obsessed historians could remember. Unwielding, relentless, disciplined and versatile, the turian armies were the sledge hammer of the galactic government, it's shield and sword. They had vanquished Ork-Waaghs all over the galaxy, defeated the krogan hordes, enforced security all over citadel space and battled slavers and pirates on a nearly daily basis. They were the mightiest force in the known galaxy, equipped with the best weapon systems known to the Citadel, fueled by the industrial might of a large empire, not once defeated in their long history.

And this would be one as well, thought it did not feel like one to General Artanis. After seventeen days of the ground offensive, his forces were finally in a position to attack the main settlement of the colony. It's bunker-domes were already under heavy fire from his artillery and bombers, the main offensive was to start with the next daylight. And yet it felt to him like they had lost the battle.

It seemed like every inch they had crossed had to be paid for with the blood of good turian soldiers. Like shadows and ghosts their adversaries had striken from the dark, attacking and retreating before they could be caught, booby trapping even their own dead, not leaving behind anything to study, not even corpses. It was like fighting an army of salarians with the discipline of turians and the ferocity of krogans.

"What do you have in store for us next?", Artanis mumbled while studying the holographic display of the battlefield. His own forces were shown in blue, deployed around the city shown in red, though it lacked the positions of enemy forces. Not because this features wasn't integrated into the display, but because the lack of intel. Something inside the city was disturbing their scanning, thus they were practically going in blind, a nightmare for every commanding officer. Yet he was sure that they were a lot of bad suprises awaiting his men, like there had been since the beginning of the conflict.

"SIR! ROCKETS!"

The frantic cry from one of his men let him whirl around to face the man sitting on one of the controls. Alarms were blaring up, red lights were blinking and the silence of the command bridge was turned into a cacophony of terror in a matter of a second. The display of the colonies main settlement vanished and was replaced by a tactical map of the space surrounding the fleet. "Evasive maneuvers. Shoot them down", the General ordered immediately, trying to keep up his composure. "Where do they come from?"

"From the second moon, right behind us."

From the moon? Artanis' mind nearly boggled. That meant that these species had been prepared to shoot at an enemy force between the planet and the moon. That was light-years beyond good preparation, that was paranoid. And why have they not found them? Most likely the same reason they were not able to get a good picture of the enemies ground forces, stealth technology beyond anything known to the salarians or any other species. "How far out?"

"One minute till impact."

"Good. Shoot them down and..." He was about to relax a bit, when the sound of locked consols filled the room. All around him. Immediately the sense of dread doubled.

"_Greetings General Artanis." _The voice filling the air was mechanical and nothing more than a deep rumble. Where only seconds before the space surrounding the fleet had been shown, now there was a massive face, reminding him somewhat of an asari. Only with broader features. And clearly mechanical. _"I must say, your firewalls were quite the challenge. Seven day's to crack them, not bad at all."_

Fighting down the panic he felt, the general swallowed hard and took a stiff posture, trying to keep calm. "I take it you are an AI responsible for this?"

"_Part of it at least." _If an artificial voice could have sound mocking, this one had done so. _"The rockets, not so much. Taking over your ship... well, yes, that I did. Let me tell you, that I enjoyed studying your data bases and sending all what I have learned to my superiors. Farewell General, it was quite entertaining."_

The lights turned off, the display vanished, everything was cast into darkness. And silent.

"Men... it was an honor serving with you", the General said, his voice wavering. "Lets hope the spirits will welcome us with open arms."

Thirteen rockets with nuclear warheads, each one packing enough power to obliterate a whole city, smashed into the crippled turian fleet from behind. Ships were torn asunder, fireballs of green and orange flames filled the dark space.

* * *

**Day 25**

Since the fateful battle of Au'taal, a Tau colony in the outer hemisphere of the Turian-Tau-Protectorate, the use of auxiliary forces were the norm for the turian armies. In the famous battle the turian commander had used vast troops of Tau Fire Warriors in concert with his own troops, using the different strengths to counter the weaknesses of both forces, forcing back a massive pirate raid and giving them a beating like there had never been one before. The primarchs had, thanks to the enormous strain their forces were under, adopted this practice and since then it was quite common for a turian army to be accompanied by Tau Pathfinders and fast attack groups, Dawi heavy weaponry units (mostly on lease) and even a few Batarian pioneer troops, though the last ones only after the collapse of the Hegemony and hailing from free worlds, giving military service as payment for security.

One of the most usual of these units, though nearly unknown to the public, were the so called IO-Forces, the "Intelligence Office". Hailing from different species and there more for the money than patriotism, most officers of the Turian Hierachy looked down on them and thought of them as egg-heads and cowards without a single claw fit for military duty, seen as a mix of mercenaries and button-pushers. But they also used their skills in analyzing vast amounts of data, electronic warfare and, to be frank, hacking.

The small unit of the IO, a not really fitting name but it had stuck, attached to the third turian fleet was a small group of individuals, no more than thirty people and with the loss of the Victory's Lance these number had been cut down by more than half. The single salarian of the unit, one of formerly seven, was busy with going through the data collected by the ground forces, trying to find a pattern in the enemies movements, when a curse let him look up from his work.

"These barefaces...", muttered his neighbor, a young asari maiden with the name Savaja. She had been in the IO for more than sixty years by now, longer than her salarian colleague even was, and had joined up in the beginning because she had been drunk and thought it a funny idea to prank the most powerful military force in known space. When she had woken up the next day with a terrible hangover she had found out that the turian military took such jokes with very little humour. To Savaja's luck, she was actually quite the skilled programmer and a fast learner, learning the ropes of her new job quickly and climbing up the career ladder quite fast. Still, she was not past the stage of cursing when she found something disturbing. Like this.

"What is it?", asked her amphibian colleague with the interest in his voice apparent.

"The rocket's weren't there for the fleet", answered Savaja with a grumble.

For the last thirty nine hours she had tried to get past the heavily encrypted data banks of the small hidden moon base the fleet had found, sadly after the powerful sneak attack. Since it had happened, most survivors of the small IO-unit were working on checking the firewalls of the fleet and looking for any more hacking attempts from any AI's or individuals, so far without finding anything. And those two of the team who were tasked with analyzing the AI, those that could be found of it, were ready to tear their eyes out of sheer frustration.

Thus only Savaja, her salarian colleague named Check and the young tau Un'lvai were working on anything else, namely trying to find out what their enemies were doing, why, how and what they were most likely to do next. It was however incredibly tiring for them, as they had lot's of reports to work with and turian vids, yet nearly no good information about the enemy, no biological data, the scientists were working on it, no captured data caches, no equipment they could analyze, nothing.

With one exception: The remnants of the hidden base on the small moon of the planet. It had been pure luck, as the self destruction of the facility had only partially gone off because of a computer failure, nothing more. Otherwise everything left would have been rubble.

And thus Savaja had a small array of data caches to work with, but first she had to get in. Not only was the language a completely different one, these people were also using a numerical system based on the number ten, not six, like most of the universe. And the virtual intelligence firewalls were incredibly crafty, nearly AI level, yet thankfully not able to be creative. And now, after more than thirty hours of hard work, she had managed it.

And found something disturbing.

The rocket heads had been powerful enough to destroy every life on any garden world known, filled not only with explosives and a dangerous unstable substance that had made the explosion much more powerful, there were also biological weapons build into the heads. Those designed to kill a specific levo-amino based species. The one living on the planet.

"The hidden military facility was not there to fire on a fleet in the case of an invasion", she said without talking to someone specific. "It had been there to destroy the colony."

As it had been hidden, very well so to be honest, it could not have been put there as a way to bully the colony into submission. It had to be a safety precaution. If the people of the planet would rebel, they would all be killed.

That at least was the logical reasoning she could come up with. Why else put such a base on the inner side of the moon, the one facing the planet? It would be useless in the case of an foreign invasion.

Well, nearly useless, as the events had just shown.

* * *

**Day 27**

Illo Chellok was a good soldier. Not a very good one or an outstanding one, but a good one.

With 12 he had fired his first rifle on the farm of his father, getting shown how to to that by his big brother who had been home on leave from his assignment in the Traverse.

With 15 he had begun basic training and fell hopelessly in love with a fellow comrade, a girl from a neighbouring colony. He spend a sweet night of love making with her, his first, before she was put into another unit three months later. They broke up a week after that, it did not work out.

With 16 he was assigned to his field unit, an armored infantry squadron, the backbone of the turian military. He have not seen battle once in the time he was in the squad but saw a lot of the galaxy and made a lot of friends.

With 18 he was assigned to another unit, a brigade of the Third Turian Fleet, still an infantry squad.

With 19 he was killed in action in an ambush by a bipedal creature using a flame thrower, roasting Illo alive in his own armor. He died in the outskirts of a city he did not even know the name of on a planet whose name he would never learn, killed by a species he had not even seen before.

* * *

**Day 30**

Thirty damnable days on this spirit forsaken planet. Thirty days of fighting for their lives and the pride of the Hierachy, to put down a species trying to rise up to the stars and show them their place, namely under the armored heel of the Turian Hierachy. In the mind of Aul'Shun this was just wrong. A young, intelligent species trying to make their way in the universe, like a toddler making it's first steps, only to be pushed down and ground into the dirt by the heeled boot of the Citadel Council. Like his own species once.

He was a Tau auxiliary, doing his duty as soldier of the Hierachy and his caste at the same time. A pathfinder hailing from the steps and forests of T'auva itself, he was filling a role in the military as light reconnaissance soldier, dressed in light recon armor and equipped with several drones and light weapons. Together with his unit, all hailing from the same sept as he did, he had scouted several planets all over the galaxy, had hid behind pirate camps and spied out mercenary groups. He was no greenling in the art of war, yet this one was a new experience for him anyway.

The city of these mammals, he was sure the people living here were such beings, was a death trap for any attacker. Since the loss of General Artanis to the despicable, dastardly attack from the moons surface, the new commanding officer had unleashed all hell on the primitives. Orbital bombardment, followed by an all out attack from every angle possible. Bloody, brutal and dirty, that where the words to describe the urban warfare.

The Hierachy armies had the better armor, the better weapons, more forces and the air superiority, though only after finally taking out the anti-air-defense turrets. Yet the defending Blackies, as the defenders were monikered by the soldiers by now, were fighting tooth and nail for every inch of ground, making use of traps, explosions, flame throwers, ambushes and snipers wherever they could. For two steps forward on one front, the turians and their auxiliaries were forced back a step on another one.

These people were beyond fanatic. They would rather blow up an important building than giving it to their enemies, preferrable with Turians in the inside. When their rifles were overheated they took their sidearms, when their sidearms were lost they charged with knifes, when no knifes in their hands they fought with bare fists. Sure, the hierachy forces were advancing and winning, but they got bloodied and and scratched at every step they took.

Aul'Shun was thankful for the camouflage armor he was wearing, otherwise the crazy mammals would have seen him a while ago and riddled him with bullet holes that not even his birth-mates would be able to recognize him. He was laying on his stomach in the rubble of a bombed out building, halfway covered by dirt and the remains of a wall, while only outside the building a great group of five fingered aliens were rushing down the street. The small spy drone he had placed in a strategic position across the street allowed him to take a good look on them, even taking pictures and analyzing the data he came across.

Heavy weaponry here and there, some grenades, a wild mix of different uniforms, though all in black and red, and sometimes even some sort of civilian clothing mixed in. Hoods and masks, helmets and goggles, protecting their faces from any casual observer. It was not a fighting unit in the traditional sense, more of a group of men and women, as some of the figures where a bit lighter and had the build of asari, banding together to fight their enemies.

Aul'Shun could relate, really, he could. Some part of him was cheering for them, as he watched them rushing through the ruins of their home, silently moving from corner to corner, always trying to keep in cover. A militia of sort, fighting against an enemy trying to take away their homes, fighting tooth and nail to expulse the invaders from their world. It was a futile act of course, but their stubborn refusal to accept defeat in the face of superior forces was sort of inspiring.

He still send the data about their movements to the HQ and his leader. Then he waited a few more minutes before crawling from his cover and sneaking deeper into the enemy held territory. He did not know it, but thanks to his intel three squads of Turian heavy infantry with heavy weapon platforms ambushed the group of resisting aliens twenty minutes later, fencing them between two ruins, shooting them like fish in a barrel.

* * *

**Day 43**

Brigadier General Adrien Victus had been promoted to his rank just six days before the conflict with this new species had begun. He was therefore only holding this rank for forty nine days, a lot of them he had spend in medbay, when he was summoned into the ready room of the Lieutenant General, the one turian in command of the fleet and army by now. Since the death of General Artanis in the sneak attack with high powered rockets, and he had never before seen such powerful ones short of planet crackers, the Lieutenant General had changed the armies tactics to a more direct approach, the "proper turian approach" as some had said. Though they had nearly won by now, it had been a costly victory.

Victus was thinking it stupid and idiotic, trying to take the same approach as usual when faced with a different situation, but he was not the commander and thus he did what a turian was supposed to do: Shut up and do as told.

He stood in front of the door and waited to be let in, though he only had to do so for about two seconds before it slid to the side and allowed him entrance. Other than his predecessor, Lieutenant General Arterius was not fond of what he called "rubbish" in his ready room, so the office was bare any decorations and only filled with the barest necessities. Positioned directly next to the bridge of the Dreadnought "Claw of the Spirits", he was in the center of the activity of everything, be it on the ground or in the fleet, the nexus point of the whole war.

Not that it was much of a war in Adrien's mind, one single planet was not a war but a skirmish, though a big one in this case. He saluted and took a stiff posture in front of the desk. "Brigadier General Adrien Victus, reporting as ordered sir."

The salute was returned by the owner of the office. "Good seeing you out of medbay Brigadier General", he said after sitting down. "Take a seat."

Victus did so. His behind had not even touched the chair, when Lieutenant General Arterius already spoke again. "You will ship down to the front and take command there. You will crush the last bits of rebellion with every force you have available. Understood Brigadier General?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. It's time these primitives learn that the universe doesn't belong to them." He scoffed. "I don't care how many you have to kill, destroy them utterly. I have enough of their resistance, they will either lay down their weapons like they should have done in the beginning or be slaughtered to the last newborn."

Adrien watched his superior for a second, before asking: "Sir, may I speak freely?"

"Will I like it?"

"Most likely not."

Arterius mandibles moved in a manner that indicated he had bitten into something foul tasting and he harumphed. "I thought so. Spit it out."

If Adrien Victus had been a human, he would have rolled with the eyes. Instead he just waited for a second to choose the right words, then he said: "They have fought tooth and nail for their home, with inferior technology and numbers and yet they have given us more of a fight than even the Krogan would have ever been able too."

Arterius clicked his mandibles in a dangerously annoyed manner. "You sound like you admire them", he nearly hissed, though he kept a professional tone.

"I respect them, that is all", the other turian answered truthfully. And in his mind there was nothing wrong in respecting a worthy opponent, it was even healthy because it made underestimating others rather hard. He recognized skills when he saw it and of skill there was plenty down on this planet. "And perhaps it is time to change our approach. I can bring them to surrender if I got the chance."

"No."

He blinked. The answer had come rather direct, not even a moment of hesitation. For a single moment he thought about arguing for it, but then he thought better of it. "As you command sir. May I take my leave?"

"You may."

Without another word Adrien stood up and left the office.

* * *

**Day 56**

They were the last of their kind on this planet. The heavy infantry unit of the sixths brigade was fighting the last fighting men and women of the Blackies, the five fingered mammals having taken position in a round, heavily fortified building that had was build more underground than above it. There were no rockets left and no grenades anymore, the Blackies were shooting with their slug throwers only by now and even those were running low on ammunition.

Tona Arcotos, by now part of the sixths brigade as his own had been all but destroyed, was happy about it. Not that he was fighting the enemy, oh no, but that the fight was nearly over. In the time since they had stormed the city he had been shot at with every weapon imaginable, including crossbows and even a catapult. He had fought one of these beings in close combat when the spirit damned thing had rushed him with a knife and he was forced to defend himself, another time he had nearly been crushed under a falling piece of metal, pushed down by three of these beings.

He reloaded his grenade launcher with a practiced movement and fired two of the explosive devices trough a window on the other side of the street. They exploded immediately and a scream could be heard, no return fire.

"Move it guys!" The voice of his squad leader came through the com unit in his helmet and in concert the entire squad of six heavy infantry soldiers jumped out of their cover and ran across the street. Tona pressed himself against the wall as soon as he could and switched from his grenade launcher to his assault rifle, while two of his comrades grabbed the explosive charts from their hips and pressed them against the wall. Sometimes it was good being part of the Turian Military, especially when one was given so many great toys.

"COVER!"

Again moving in concert, the five men and one women pressed themselves against the wall, then a big hole was ripped into it. Thanks to the personal shielding and the directed explosion they weren't even phased by it, then they were in motion again. Charging through the cloud of dust they made their way into the building itself and riddled the single surviving defender with holes. He, or perhaps she, had not even be able to fire a single shot.

There were no words necessary, they knew their orders. Thanks to good training and several hard fought battles, they had become veterans in urban warfare and it was showing. They secured the room immediately, checked the hallways and stood away from the corpse, it could have been rigged. It was even very much the most likely possibility. As these aliens were crazy enough to build every armor of their soldiers with build in explosive charges to either take enemies with them once they die or remove the chance of finding something out about their biology, it was almost a given that they would do everything in their power to make the Turians bleed.

But that were details the tech-heads had to find out, Tona was a soldier and only doing his duty. He turned around a corner and checked the hallway for movement with a practiced movement, his sensors scanning for heat emissions. He stopped short when he saw something running in his direction. Not that he wasn't prepared for being attacked, it was more the size of the thing. And the fact, that it was not wearing armor of any kind.

A small, bipedal creature were running into his direction, upper limbs flaying around wildly and the mouth opened to scream. It was the first time he had ever seen one of these creatures without armor or heavy clothing, the first time he got a good look on the face of it. It reminded him of an asari, though with fur on it's head, and the skin a pink colour, the eyes a startling green. Like he expected it was dressed in black and red garments. And it was a child. The big eyes, the small nose, the too big head, the small size, it had to be a child. A child carrying several belts of small canisters and running into his direction.

He moved on instinct and pressed his trigger finger down.

* * *

Brigadier General Adrien Victus was sick to the stomach as he watched the vids from the helm cameras of his soldiers. The last push to finally break the last resistance was in full swing and the mammals were throwing their last reserves at them, namely children. It was sickening and just twisted. How desperate where these people? In a military way he admired their dedication, as he had never before seen so much resistance from any other species. The turian in him felt just ready to keel over and be sick all over the floor.

From the last front came more and more reports from suicidal runs done by children, throwing themselves against the advancing turian forces. It wasn't even like they had much effect other than slowing them down and killing one in five soldiers, but every time two more stepped forward to take the place of their fallen comrades. Steadily the vids from the helm cameras became more and more sickening, as Adrien saw corpses over corpses littering the hallway.

There was a deadly silence in his command stand, as his staff was watching the video links with a mixture of terror and sickness on their faces. So that's what these beings looked like, like pink asari with fur on their heads and green crystals growing from their skin here and there. A form of body art perhaps?

His gaze was drawn to the holographic display of a particular soldier, who was advancing deeper into the building at the front of his unit. There were lot's of big rooms filled with rows upon rows of chairs and tables, pointing to a single conductor's stand at the end of every room. A school perhaps. A school filled with corpses to the brim. Throats slashed, cups most likely formerly filled with poison next to them, strangled, shot, decapitated, there were all kinds of suicide visible. Old, young, female, male, it made no difference, they were all dead. As more and more of these images came in, it became clear how stubborn these people had really been. The lifeless bodies of newborn and toddlers lay in the arms of their parents, lovers embraced in death, they would rather all die than to live under the rule of the turian's.

A few teams made their way down into the bowels of the building, showing more scenes of death. The tunnels went deeper and deeper into the soil of the planet, a whole labyrinth of tunnels and hallways and rooms. Storing facilities, barracks, bathrooms, armories. Though lot's of it was collapsed, it was apparent that these people had build a bunker city under their main city.

"Why have we not found these tunnels before?", he asked suddenly without turning his gaze from the displays.

"Something is disturbing our sensors... and we have not searched for them either", a Lieutenant he did not know the name of answered. "They must have set up cloaking devices for the whole settlement."

The Brigadier General was about to reply that such technology does not exists, before he stopped himself. Because apparently, there was now. He had seen some strange gimmicks in the last month on this world, why not such devices?

His face turned back to the holographic display while his mind worked furiously at the questions he was asking himself. Or, to be more precise, at the realizations he had. Though he had seen their underhanded tactics and furious refusal to bow down in this conflict from the beginning, he was just now beginning to see that the Hierachy was in for a hard fight. Because this was only a colony. And how much would these beings fight for their home world? How desperate would they be when fighting on the soil of their fathers and forefathers? And even if the Hierachy would manage to subjugate them and turn their territory into a client state, how long would it take before they would rebel?

He supressed a shudder at the thought of an all out rebellion. He knew of their skill in planetside warfare and these doctrines would influence their tactics in space battle. Their ways of fighting was up on par of asari commandos, though without biotics, and their weapons had inventive designs that not even the salarians had thought of.

That was a moment a single soldier in the city opened a rounded metal door and found itself in a circular room filled with dead monitors and sparse red lighting. Yet the corpses of a few mammals were visible, dressed in black leather and armor, thought they weren't what draw the eyes of the general onto the display. No, it was the one yet living being, a female one with long black hair and a form fitting black suit, smiling a cruel smile and holding a small device in her hand. Then the contact was lost. To all cameras. At once.

Only a millisecond later a mighty rumble could be heard and a small tremor shook the ground. And then the sky lit up in the fire of a nuclear-tiberium bomb going off in the middle of the city.

* * *

**Day 59**

"_Preparing to drop out of FTL. Confirm orders Fleet Leader?"_

"Confirmed. Fleet Leader Aserpaja to all units: Prepare to disengage FTL-Drive and engage enemy fleet. I want to hit them with everything we have as soon as we arrive."

"Shadow Wing, _confirmed."_

"Retribution Wing, _confirmed."_

"Flame Wing, _confirmed."_

"Scorpion Wing, _confirmed."_

"Sword Wing, _confirmed."_

"Marcion's Hand, _confirmed."_

"Killian's Hand, _confirmed."_

"Slavik's Hand, _confirmed."_

"_Strike force all confirming and accounted for Fleet Leader."_

"Good. Ready to engage ony my command."

* * *

"Admiral!"

Rear Admiral Alastas, the acting commander in absence of Lieutenant General Arterius who was sleeping at the moment, looked up from his station in the middle of the command center. The voice of the young lieutenant was filled with panic and he himself was about to panic as he saw the display in front of him.

"Contacts dropping out of FTL, consistent with Blackie models", another bridge officer yelled from his position, trying to be louder than the alarm sirens that suddenly filled the air. In the same moment swarms of small crafts disengaged from the enemy fleet, coming over the shocked turian fleet like a swarm of locusts. "Nineteen contacts... twenty... twenty-three... no, I... less... only ten... what...?"

"Formation thirteen, return fire", the Admiral said with a voice as level as he could but in the same time his mind was failing him. Right before his eyes a fleet of black and red ships had come out of FTL right on top of their own unprepared fleet, sleek, crab like things, ranging in size from frigate to cruiser and beyond. Red streaks of laser fire filled the space and explosions lit up the sky as he saw no less than two of his own frigates fell under the assault of bombers. Nearly invisible bombers, the defense turrets only able to see them right before they dropped their deadly presents. "Get a grip soldier, we are Turian's and Turian's don't panic! Now get me a number of these pink..."

His words died on his mandibles as something else came out of FTL, directly in front of them as if to mock them. A long, elegant ship with a hammer like head and fins diverging from the stretched main body, dwarfing every ship in both fleets. "They have dreadnoughts..."

A dreadnought not only sitting there, but coming at them with full speed, firing with everything it had and smashing into the suddenly defending fleet with the force of a sledge hammer hitting a tower of fragile dishes.

* * *

The turian ship Justice Eternal was a destroyer of the newest line, this conflict the first it served in. Build in the tradition of turian design and filled with technology born of the joint project of turian and dawi partnership, it had been designed to hunt pirate ships and act as patrol ship. Certainly not to withstand the assault of no less than ten Vertigo-Bombers which descendent on the ship like a swarm of angry insects. Angry insects with very powerful bombs.

The shields buckled and then died, armor was ripped open, then the hull broke apart and an angry red beam of laser fire finished it then off. It was a scene which could be seen all over the battle field.

Lightning fast attacks of Vertigo-Bombers, protected from detection by their cloaking shields, hammered away at nearly defenseless turian warships. Heavily armored and armed hierarchy ships were outmaneuvered by their enemies who were going against every ounce of Citatel spacial warfare doctrine by rushing right in and engaging their counterparts in dodge matches. Ion cannon shots and laser fire filled the vacuum of space, nuclear warheads covered in neutered tiberium were thrown out like candy.

* * *

Lieutenant General Arterius was more or less stumbling to the command bridge after he had jumped from his bed as soon as the alarms came online. With a shocked expression he took everything in, the alarmingly red displays, the yelled reports, the explosions outside, the rumbling of the ship. He was about to yell a command when he was thrown to the ground by another hit.

"Bow shields are down, forward shields at 13 percent!"

"Thrusters are offline, there are fires all over the ship!"

"We lost the Unification!"

Normally in such a case the commanding officer would order a suicidal charge, trying to go down with a loud bang, showing that the Turian military does neither cower nor retreats, not even in the face of overwhelming forces. But there was no battle lines to charge into, only slaughter and carnage.

That was however the moment the communications officer gasped. "We are hailed from the Blackie Dreadnought!"

"Put it through!"

What appeared instead of the holographic display of the battle could have been some sort of asari, though lacking the head tendrils and build broader and a bit more, well, masculine. There was fur in the beings face and the eyes were shining in a strange light, even visible through the blue tinted hologram. Dressed in a black coat with red trimmings and black clothing underneath, a heavy chain with a sort of triangle holding a symbol around the neck, the creature seemed to be some kind of high ranking individual, a general most likely.

"_Greetings my turian friends"_, the creature said and seemed way too smug for a mammal merely just understanding just who dangerous and big the universe really is. _"I would love to say it was a pleasure meeting you, but that would be a lie. Let me just tell you, that if you try to catch a scorpion, you will get struck. We are the Brotherhood of Nod, the children of the Tiberium, and you will learn to fear us."_

* * *

21th June 2157 – A fleet of Brotherhood ships catch the turian fleet over the colony of Sarajevo in the back, annihilating the citadel fleet using unusual tactics and unknown technology.

22th June 2157 – Adrien Victus, commanding officer of the surviving Hierarchy forces on Sarajevo, opens negotiations with the Brotherhood of Nod. His name will later be cursed by many turians, as his decision was seen as cowardly.

6th July 2157 – Asari Matriarch Benezia arrives in the system of Sarajevo to open official negotiations with the Brotherhood of Nod, before the Hierarchy can start an all out war. The Brotherhood allows the withdrawal off all surviving forces, yet they keep any left over debris from the turian fleet.

19th July 2157 – The STG start investigating the Brotherhood of Nod and the strange crystalline substance known as Tiberium.

7th October 2157 – Turian analyses of the "Battle for Sarajevo" is finished. Brigadier General Adrien Victus is demoted to the rank of Colonel for "Cowardly behaviour in front of the enemy". Dawi Scientists begin on the project of large carrier class ships to match Brotherhood fleets in possible wars to come.

* * *

**A Dangerous People**

**Chapter 6: The Brotherhood of Nod**

_Major Alkahee, former STG_

_The discovery of Brotherhood of Nod, their technologies and culture as well as the nature of the first contact, startled everyone in citadel space. Many soldiers fighting them told horror stories of fighting ghosts and shadows and an enemy that just kept on going no matter how outmatched. Scientists were puzzled about massive output of energy in even small devices and the strange crystalline substance called Tiberium, yet without the long experience on the matter they got nowhere in their studies._

_The Hierarchy learned from their hard experience fighting against the Brotherhood, analyzing the tactics used and formulating strategies to counteract them in case of another war. They also began constructing massive ships used as strike craft carriers, to counteract the massive lack of defensive power against small strike fighters from which their ships suffered from._

_The Asari were astonished of finding a species so similar in experience, yet the reports from Matriarch Benezia warned them of a people submitted to a cause, nearly fanatical and extraordinary sneaky in their dealings. That made the Brotherhood only more interesting for many, especially those in their maiden years and some would pay a heavy price for their interest in the matter. Others would just vanish. _

_A lot of Asgard and especially Salarian scientists were incredibly interested in the new technologies, but while the Asgard kept away from them like the treaty of Sarajevo demanded, the STG launched several full scale infiltration attempts. Most of them, especially in the early years, failed spectacular and it was on one of those botched operations, that I lost the use of my left eye. _

_It speaks volumes about the craftiness resourcefulness of these people that only twenty years of first contact with them, several trustworthy reports and papers about Nod biotics were send to the Council. They fascinated the galaxy as a whole from the moment they bloodied the turian military and were often depicted as villains in a lot of entertainment vids, games and novels._

_But before anything else, the Brotherhood frightened the citadel space as a whole. Because they were an unknown power outside of council control. Next to nothing was known about them, not their size, their power, their technologies, their culture, their history. And they kept it that way, casting themselves in mysteries and shadows. The Brotherhood of Nod was something outside of the control of the Council, even more so than the Orks or the Hutt had ever been. _

* * *

5th November 2157 – A turian patrol fleet follows the trail of Ork ships through Relays 314.

* * *

**Well, that's it, my attempt of writing a Mass-Effect-Multi-Crossover. If you're interested in it, don't hope for fast updates, because I'm not one to write things in one go but add something here, then there, then I write a chapter completely new, and so on. And sorry for the mangling of the english language, it's not my mother tongue.**


	3. Chapter 2: First Contact

** .5 : No God Emperor. Though I like the Empire of Mankind, I think it unfit for this universe. Too dark, too gritty, too xenophobic. Also, way to powerful. I could tone it down, but then again, would it still be the Empire of Mankind with the God Emperor?**

** Skisin: Thanks, I appreciate it.**

** Beyogi: I think the Brotherhood of Nod would be way beyond paranoid if they'd win and as I imagine them to pump their population full of propaganda of the dangers out there, it would be only logical to be ready for war any time. I imagine a whole society based on the teachings of Kane as being paranoid, fanatical and distrustful of even their own people.**

** medchtsia: Thank you very much. And the idea is intriguing, perhaps I will do something similar.**

** Ragnar92: There are enough of those crossover out there in my eyes. Not that I don't like them, I just think the Imperium of Man not fitting for this particular setting. Too extreme in their views.**

** lizonjoe25: Thank's, though I must admit it will get worse in this chapter.**

** Luka: I will.**

**Well, thanks guys for the reviews, they always make my day when I read them, no matter how many times I did that before.**

**Anyway, onwards to chapter two.**

* * *

"Captain, the last ork craft has been disabled but the unidentified fleet is still powering weapons and aiming at us."

"Send orders to the fleet to reorganize in formation twenty nine and be ready to engage enemy fleet."

"Sir?"

"You heard me soldier. Lieutenant, ready to fire on my mark."

"Yes sir."

"We are being hailed by the Chariot!"

"Put it on screen."

"_Captain. My scanners indicate you have aimed your forward batteries and Mass Accelerator cannon at the still unidentified fleet. What is the reason for this?"_

"They are most likely trying to attack us next, they are already getting into an attack formation and are aiming their weapons at us. We will be ready for this."

"_Have you tried to establish first contact?"_

"Not, but the regulations are clear on this matter. If a fleet of warships is threatening a citadel council sanctioned patrol fleet, it is to be taken as an aggressive move and to be dealt with by a swift and direct response."

"_Don't try to sanctionise your actions by an outdated law that has been signed before youre great grandfather has been born. Stand down."_

"Captain, with all respect, you have no authority over me and my fleet."

"_That may be, but I have three mass accelerator cannons, each more powerful than yours, a full battery of nuclear war heads, better barriers and enough ablative armor to withstand concentrated fire of your fleet for about 439 seconds, which would give me enough time to reduce your fleet's strength by 43 to 58 percent. Stand down."_

"What?!"

"_I said: Stand down."_

* * *

_5__th__ November 2157 – A turian patrol fleet accompanied by an asgard battle cruiser follows a small ork fleet through Relay 314._

_6__th__ November 2157 – The turian-asgard fleet catch the orks in a small star system populated by an unknown species. Asgard ship captain Baldur takes command after the defeat of the orks and not to return fire when fired upon by the unknown species. First contact is established peacefully._

* * *

First contact was always a strange affair for everyone. One side would most likely be the superior one, one side would most likely be suspicious AND cultural differences could lead to a war in same cases. Matriarch Benezia, one of the most influential and experienced matriarch in the asari-society, knew all this from hard earned experience her people had. The first time the Asari had met the Orks, it had been not only a disaster, the proper word for it would most likely be: A massive clusterfuck.

When they had discovered the Wookie, it had nearly come to blows because of the language barrier and the frightening appearance of the about 8 feet tall, furred aliens from Kashyyk. Benezia was amused by the idea of a war with the Wookies, not because it was funny, but because she had learned in her long life, that the hard working, gentle beings were all in all more like giant plush toys for children to cuddle with, than dangerous individuals. A few black sheep, um, Wookies, here and there, but at large they were very gentle.

Then there had been the disasters with the Rachni and the Tau, though the last one had worked out fine in the end. And now there was the incident with the Brotherhood of Nod to add to that list, another war the Council had barely dodged. Why do the Turians always shoot first and ask questions later? Was it so much to ask to stop for a second and think, before you shoot at some total stranger who most likely does not know what they're up against? Apparently, for most turians it was.

She was only happy that this time the peace keepers of the galaxy and fellow council species was not the one establishing first contact, but the captain of an asgard battle cruiser. Though small compared to the fearsome asgard dreadnoughts, their battle cruisers were still frightening ships with more tonnage than their turian or asari counterparts and as they were also equipped with better shields, heavier armor and a more effective energy output, no sane turian commander would go into a fire fight with one of these beasts. As the asgard also had the senior membership of the council, their captains were quite willing and able to take control if the situation forced them.

Preventing another war because of a misunderstanding was one such situation.

Benezia stood at the view port of her personal yacht and watched the stars around them turning back into position as the ship dropped out of FTL. Before her a small solar system came into view, filled with several planets, two gas giants among them, and a small fleet in orbit around the third planet from the sun. The planet itself, Shanxi if she recalled the name correctly, was a small world mostly covered in water, only about thirty percent dry land. Several climatic zones, a small population of the local species, called "Humans".

Bipedaled, five fingered, levo-amino based. Technology not as advanced as the citadel species, but what race was? But what else could she expect from them? The small dossier she had been given was incredibly slim, holding only the barest hints about culture and language in it.

"With rising excitement: I can barely wait for this meeting. Slightly nervous: I hope we can make a good impression on them", came the ponderous, monotone voice of her elcor colleague Farrot from her left. She had long become used to the seemingly strange manner of speaking the elcor were using and did not even notice it anymore. Whenever she remembered her four legged associate speak, it would be in a "normal" way, using pronouncing and mimics.

A series of howls from her other side was the answer and it though her omni tool translated it immediately, she did not need to listen to the computerized voice to understand. It had taken her more than a decade of study, but she had learned Shyriiwook, the main language of the Wookie, though she was not capable of speaking it herself. Though the image of her growling and barking were often a source of amusement for her.

"Don't worry my friends, I'm sure helping them killing Orks will help show us in a positive light", she answered with a slightly teasing voice as the yacht slid past a big piece of debris, left over from the Ork raiding fleet that had fled into this system.

It was nearly funny in a cosmical sense, that despite the brutal nature of the orkish species, they still did some good in their own way. That was of course no reason to let this race exist, but there was little they could do about it, so she shut tried to see it positively.

* * *

_19__th__ November 2157 – Matriarch Benezia, together with a citadel diplomatic party, arrives at the human colony of Shanxi as ordered by the Citadel Council. Matriarch Benezia was requested by the majority of the Citadel Ambassador Board, thanks to her good work with establishing official first contact with the Brotherhood of Nod._

* * *

Admiral Drescher, commanding officer of the Second Fleet of the Human System Alliance, stared in awe out of the window of the small office she was standing in. She was still uncomfortable with the idea of real windows on a warship, structural weaknesses and all, but this wasn't a military ship and she could enjoy the view. Well, as much as you can enjoy the sight of an alien flotilla parked just above one of your colonies.

There were several types of ships, most of them sleek and angular designs with attached wings like feathers pointing back, small crafts only a hundred meters long, frigates, and seven larger and heavier ones, cruisers. The reports the admiral had read spoke of mass effect kinetic barriers, anti-missile/anti-fighter laser turrets, torpedo launchers of unknown power and so called "Mass Accelerators". At first she had no idea what the last ones should be, before she found out, that in essence it is a large tube running through nearly the whole ship that shoots massive metal slugs via electromagnetic attraction and repulsion. Simple, effective and demanding a large amount of power to be used.

Which led her to the most intimidating ship in her view, the single dreadnought in the flotilla. About eight hundred meters long and throwing out power readings like candy, the Admiral was afraid of only the idea of facing off against that monster in battle. A massive, broad body ending in a hammer like head in front and broad wings at the back. Three big holes were drilled into the middle of the "head", the ends of not only one but several mass accelerators. And as the longer the barrel, the longer the slug can be accelerated, the higher the slug's final velocity, and therefore the greater its kinetic impact. She shuddered as the images of the crude raider ships being reduced to rubble by only one hit from such a monster.

The human admiral had no idea, but the real power of the asgard battle cruiser, the ship class one step below the feared dreadnoughts, wasn't it's three main guns, but the massive amount of ablative armor which took nearly 10% of the whole room of the craft, the VI based self repairing interior and the sixty-four smaller mass accelerators on the side of the ship. It was no wonder that the asgard captain had been able to take command though he was officially only a guest.

"A beautiful sight, is it not?", asked the owner of the small office as he stepped into it, two steaming pot's of coffee in his hands, giving one to the Admiral. David Sheridan was well known in the diplomatic circles of the system alliance, known for his calm demeanor and the ability to talk down even the angriest ambassador or politician. When the Alliance was afraid of an incident between two colonies, they would often send Sheridan, pulling him away from his family and his orange orchide. All this was known to Admiral Drescher and she understood why the middle aged, kindly faced man was sent.

"That's one way to see it", answered the military woman with a dry smile and turned to her host, then taking a sip from her still hot coffee. Twi cups of sugar, just like she loved it. "I see enough firepower to anhiliate our small fleet in seconds and glass in Shanxi in a matter of hours."

The male human raised his eyebrows and gave her a warm smile in return. "Well, I see that too, but I try to see the possibilities and the adventure awaiting us."

"Adventure? I would not have taking you as an adventures man."

"I'm not, but my son is. And when he heard the news off intelligent, extraterrestrial life being out here, his eyes lit up like under a christmas tree. And I gotta admit, I'm a bit excited about the wonders awaiting us out there." He gave her a warm smile. "A whole galactic civilization out there. We are about too make history."

The Admiral raised a single eyebrow and sighed inwardly. She did not share his optimism, but she was hoping that he would be right and not her.

* * *

_26__th__ November 2157 – The human System Alliance are recognized by the citadel council as the legal government of the species called humans and a treaty of mutual nonaggression is signed._

_4__th__ December 2157 – The human ambassadors arrive at the citadel to make first contact with the remaining council species and to start negotiations about the System Alliance joining the galactic society. Ambassador Sheridan will later be famous for his quote: "This galaxy is filled with wonders and horrors alike, but every one, no matter which species, cane take on them when only in the company of friends."_

* * *

When the humans made first contact with the galaxy at large, a lot of them felt like they were hit with a sledge hammer or reality. Because of just meeting a single species like the asari or the turians, they were immediately faced with a large galactic government in which most species of the galaxy were included.

The most widespread feeling among the human population was humbleness, combined with a bit of fear and awe. Compared to the turian juggernaut their military power was laughable, their economic power was nothing compared to those of the Asari Republics and the technological gap between the two societies was immense.

That however did not mean, that the humans were just about to accept that they were like small kids playing in the sand box while the bigger, cooler kids have already graduated to driving and drinking. No, the humans baffled their new neighbors with taking on the problem in a most unusual manner: By tackling it with full force.

Technological advances were made in the yet young System Alliance in leaps and bounds and the pioneer spirit for which humans would become famous, allowed them breakthroughs at a redneck speed that puzzled every other species. In a matter of years they had begun to catch up and while still lacking behind in most areas, the invention of medi-gel by human scientists put them on par with every established species in the eyes of the population.

Human colonies grew with an alarming speed and more and more of them were set up. Several military leaders, humans and off other species, warned off the possibility of not being able to protect what they held dear if growing too fast and too far, but the spirit of adventure and new heights to conquer had taken hold of humanity as a whole.

And the economical boost to the human society was nothing to sneeze at either. Though small compared to the established ones, the human economy fit into a wide array of niches, being it easy to produce hydrogen power cells, entertainment medias, exotic (for alien mouth') foods and beverages, or like said before the famous medi-gel, human concerns and enterprises made enormous profits.

Of course, not everything was sunshine and flowers.

* * *

It had been one of the most dreaded events in the galaxy since the discovery of humankind, though unknown to the humans themselves. Several biologist had speculated upon the degree of relationship of the two species and politicians had debated, behind closed doors, if the two were either one and the same and only different in name, two complete different societies or perhaps some sort of cousins. In the end, it all came down in 2159 when the two parties came face to face with each other, though completely through an accident.

It should have been impossible for both to meet, as one party had been extremely isolationistic and not shown any indication for being interested in political relationships at all. Only thanks to a small computer bug an encounter took place, as both appointments of the salarian councilor with the ambassadorial parties of the two governments were booked for the same date by total accident.

And so it was a rather strange site to see the two parked shuttles outside the Council Tower. One in white and blue, the other in black and red. The armed security men were eying each other with mistrust and wariness, while the two ambassadors and their aides were standing in front of each other, right in the middle of the lobby.

On one side was ambassador Donnel Udina, the young and newly appointed successor of David Sheridan. Since he had came to the Citadel he had sat together on the table with small volus, jelly fish like hanar, frightening and hairy wookies and even a room filled with every race a member of the citadel space. Yet this one was perhaps the most alien one for him.

In front of Udina stood a bipedal, five fingered being with pinkish skin and bright green eyes, a few strands of black hair sneaking out under the hood. All in all, the male alien looked exactly like a human would look in the black robes with the red ornaments. And though the lower face was hidden by some sort of mask, he got the impression that under it was a humanoid face hiding, with mouth and white teeth and pink lips and all.

"Ambassador Udina, a pleasure meeting you here", the, most likely, male Nod said and stepped forward, offering his hand for a hand shake.

"Thank you very much", answered the red haired man with a trained smile and took the hand, shaking it once. "I fear you have me at an advantage here, Mister..."

"Ambassador."

Udina was taken a bit aback by the reply, but tried not to show it. "Yes?"

A chuckle was the answer. "Oh no, I mean, you may call me Mister Ambassador."

The human diplomat frowned a bit. "I take it, that isn't your name."

"No it is not", came the answer from his nod counterpart. "But we of the Brotherhood are not in the business of giving away our names too freely. When you're talking with me, you're talking with the mouth and ears of Kane, not a single individual."

"I see." He did not, but there was no reason to say that. And as much as he loved to take the opportunity to finally chat with his mysterious colleague, he had an important appointment to keep. "If you excuse me, I would love to keep up our small chat, but I have an appointment with the salarian councilor to discuss the possibility of citadel human joint ventures in the medical sector. However, perhaps our offices can set up an official meeting?"

"That is strange. I too have an appointment with the councilor. A mix up most likely", the Nod ambassador said, but his voice remained smooth and a bit aloof, like before. Somehow, Udina got the impression that there was a fake smile under the mask. He did also not miss that the offer for opening relationships between his government and the Brotherhood, meaning setting up a date for an official meeting, was just ignored like he had said nothing at all.

"Most likely. I'm sure the secretary of the councilor can clarify the situation."

Said secretary, a young asari maiden, was frightened to death after two ambassadors of two relatively unknown species together with their bodyguards, stood for several minutes in front of her desk and made something akin to small talk, though with more politicking involved.

* * *

_7__th__ June 2159 – Through a chance meeting the Brotherhood of Nod and Humanity make inofficial first contact on the Citadel, in the lobby of the Council Tower. Though extremely similar in appearance and the possibility that both species are related, the Brotherhood rebuffs any offers for an official meeting._

_13__th__ July 2159 – Ambassador Udina of the human System Alliance meets with the Taung ambassador Bail Prestor Organa to discuss the relationship of the two governments and a possible partnership._

* * *

Hannah Shepard was not sure what to think of this exchange program. The idea was rather ridiculous in her mind, but orders were orders. The white armored soldiers on the hangar deck were standing out like sore thumbs and the officers dressed in dark grey uniforms were standing around and mingling with each other in a nervous way, always stiff and on the look out.

Lieutenant-Commander Shepard was a bit puzzled about the behaviour of the guests. Since she had been posted on the SSV Einstein, one of the three massive carriers that the System Alliance had at their disposal, a few months prior she had been warned about the ship being part of the planned military exchange program between the humans and the taung. The military brass was up in arms over it, furious about giving away military sensitive information to a possible hostile force, but the politicians were just smiling and seeing a way of making good publicity.

Sighing inwardly she stepped into the hangar and began looking for her two charges. While the military personal, the white armored infantry forces and the stiff officers, were about to be welcomed by the captain, she was tasked with showing the other two guests around the ship and showing them their quarters.

"Master Jinn?", she asked as she set eyes upon a big male Taung talking with a few officers. She noticed that the men around him were quite more relaxed, smiling and laughing, someone must have told a joke.

"Yes", answered the asked one and turned around. He was bigger than the average human, his slightly green and grey face covered in a thick, brown beard and framed by a mane of silky, brown hair, his nose flat like that of any taung. He had kind eyes. Hannah found it strange to think of his eyes in such a way, as they were dark and deep like that of every taung, but that was the impression she got. "You must be Lieutenant-Commander Shepard. We were briefed."

In a smooth movement he bowed and Hannah found herself mimicking it before she could stop herself. "Um, yes, I'm your guide and liaison officer for the time being. Do you know where you're colleague is, then we could start with the tour of the ship."

"I'm not his colleague."

This sentence, barely whispered, made her nearly jump out of her skin as it came from a position way to near her ear for her liking. She whirled around, her trained reflexes taking over, and found herself in the presence of her second charge. Nearly as tall as Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, this taung seemed to be the exact opposite of him. Dressed in black robes, black boots and even a black cowl, his face hidden in darkness and only his yellow glowing eyes visible. She repressed a shudder.

A sigh came from Jinn and he put a hand on Hannah's shoulders. Normally he would not have allowed such a thing, but at the moment it was perhaps the best thing to do. "Lieutenant-Commander, may I introduce? Sith-Warrior Darth Maul."

"Greetings." It was a grunt and nothing more and with that he whirled around and stalked away in the direction of the lift.

Hannah repressed a shudder and an eye roll, than hurried after him.

Ten minutes later she was once again alone with Jedi-Master Jinn, as her other charge had just demanded to be led to his quarter and then closed the door of it behind him without saying a thank you or a good-bye.

"I apologize for his behaviour", said the older taung with a sad smile. Some grey streaks had found their way into his hair and a few wrinkles were to be found around his eyes, but that only made him look kinder and experienced. His posture, his movements, his facial expression, everything about him seemed calm and kind and relaxed. His brown robe and cream coloured tunic gave him the appearance of a monk or priest, which wasn't that far from the truth.

"No need", Hannah managed to answer with only a tiny hint of anger. "I'm sure he is on edge."

The alien chuckled slightly. "Well, he is a Sith-Warrior. I have yet to meet a Sith who is not on edge."

The human was taken by surprise by this answer. "What do you mean?", she asked while already moving again, beginning the planned tour of the ship with her remaining guest.

"The Sith are warriors first and foremost", Jinn began to explain, his voice even and friendly. "I am a Jedi, a member of the Light Side of The Force. We have protected the Republic for the last 3000 years against threats from within the society and from outside. We are diplomats, advisers, scholars and protectors. The Sith however..." They rounded a corner and came into the large mess hall. "... are our brothers of the Dark Side. They kill and fight to protect what is ours and revel in their emotions, using their emotions too master their abilities."

"You mean your biotic abilities, right?" Hannah had read about this old oder of monk-warriors, about how they were masters of biotics and that an experienced of them could even give an asari justiciar a run for her money. And of course about their famous light sabers, the one mysterious technology which the salarians, or anyone else, could never get their hands on.

"Among others", he answered while taking a seat, Hannah doing the same on the other side of the mess table. "We, the Jedi and the Sith, are both biotics, yes, but that is only part of our training. While the Sith are educated as infiltrators, spies, assassins and of course open combat, the education of a Jedi includes politics, negotiations, philosophy and, to be fair, combat, though with a heavier emphasis on protection."

"Sound's like a tough deal."

"It is, I must admit that", Jinn said with a sad smile. "Not everyone can rise up to the challenge and though we do our best, there are some who fall from the path."

* * *

_21__st __May 2160 – The Human System alliance applies for membership on the Citadel as a client species. They have good relationships with nearly every species on the ambassador board, especially the Wookie and the Taung Republic, so it is broadly believed that their plight will be accepted in a matter of months._

_13__rd__ August 2160 – The Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and the Sith Warrior Darth Maul return to the Republic after serving among humans as part of the Military Exchange Program. Qui-Gon Jinn keeps in contact with Hannah Shepard as good friends._

* * *

**2157 – 2167: The years which changed the Galaxy**

_**Several authors**_

Extract from chapter three, _First Contacts_, written by asari Matriarch Irissa

"_First contacts are always a tricky thing and I don't envy any captain making them. One small mistake and a war could break out. A gesture, a sneeze, a simple body movement or even a look at the wrong time in the wrong direction could make all the difference. Luckily for us, first contacts are rare and in the long history of the Citadel Council, the races of the citadel had mostly made peaceful contact, except when with a species intent on war._

_The Rachni had been one such species, the Nod another one. And even if nod are peaceful in the eyes of most citizens, don't let that fool you: They are a dangerous, ambitious people who we should best watch carefully._

_In the decade following first contact with the Nod, I rue to use the full, official name of their government, a storm seemed to blow through the galaxy, digging up other species and pushing them into our direction. It was strange that after more than two thousand years since the treaty of the Citadel, a whole bunch of young races showed up on our doorsteps._

_As I have already written something about the nod, let me tell you something about the humans, the other first contact of the year 2157. They were like small toddlers back then, eager to learn and explore and make their first steps in the big, wide galaxy, unaware of what was waiting for them. Their first contact had been with the orks but they had been spared the real contact with these barbarians, as a turian patrol fleet and an asgard battle cruiser had pursued the small ork flotilla and destroyed it before they could land on the human colony._

_I learned that the humans were like less advanced, less sharpened, less experienced versions of us, yet with a drive that was bigger than those of most maidens, and worse manners. It was nearly infuriating me, seeing them crawling over the citadel space and touching and staring at everything, trying to find out what was what and how things worked, not in the least bit interested in taking a slow approach or accept their place, to learn from those their betters._

_Still, they were the best species the citadel met in these years. The following events made a lot of my people wish back the times when the stumbling, awkward humans had been our biggest problem._

_The galaxy had become crowded over night some would say, as in only a few years there was something happening at every corner of citadel space. I admit that I did not envy the Council of that time, as more and more ork raiding parties came out of nowhere and ravaged several small colonies and trade routes, the turians hard pressed to catch them as pirating actions in the Verge and in the Terminus Systems were becoming more and more threatening. Two first contacts in one year, a financial crisis rocking our economy, political tensions between the turians and the batarians, political tensions between the krogan and the hutt, political tensions between the nod and everyone."_

* * *

**2157 – 2167: The years which changed the Galaxy**

_**Several authors**_

Extract from chapter twelve, _Hardship_, written by taung politician and former Jedi Count Dooku of Serenno

"… _and then I met my first humans. After being in the company of species so alien and known to us for so long, the humans were refreshing because of not only their appearance, so alike the ones of us, but also because of their fresh point of view. Back then they were the newcomers to the galaxy at large, the young wild ones, still full of idealism and eyes filled with wonder and hope. Of course the Citadel was not the promised land, they knew that, but they somehow kept to dream of such a situation, earning and working for it. It was this, that made them in my eyes the most important of the new species the Citadel met in a long time._

_The first human I met was a delightfully intelligent and experienced man, the main ambassador of the System Alliance, David Sheridan. At first I was taken aback at how much the humans resembled us, though having a nose instead of slits like we do and their skin of a fleshier tone than ours, they still were standing at two feet with five fingers and five toes and had hair on their heads and the males even on their faces, just like we do._

_But though I recognized David Sheridan as an experienced negotiator and man who had seen a lot, I also recognized him as an exceptional optimist. At least, I thought him exceptional, a strange characteristic in a man of his position, before I learned that humans were like that. And though humans have a multitude of characteristics, a bigger variety than any other species known to us, most of them were looking with hope and dreams into the future and up to the stars. This was it, that made most people view them as young and though naïve, to be treasured, because they saw the best in us and believed in us._

_The asari respected them for their ways with words and negotiations. The asgard were baffled by their designs and fresh takes on old, long forgotten research fields, especially in medical matters. The salarians were intrigued by their extreme variety of cultures, in art, language, architecture, even politics and philosophy, even their science was interesting to the salarians. We taung saw them as our younger, wilder cousins, so alike in body and mind and yet not tired out by the long times of hardship and giving us new energy. And every other species learned to view them as fair but driven people, trying to excel in everything. Only the turians viewed them with mistrust._

_That was of course all, before the Skyllian War. It was a time of change for some and a time of reckoning for others. For the humans it was a cold shower of reality. For the batarians it was a time of hardship. And for the taung, it was a time of recognition._

_It began small, with a pirate fleet, when..."_

* * *

Kalla was a pirate. A good and successful pirate, not a scoundrel like in the entertainment vids in dashing colours and a smirk on his lips, but a ruthless and intelligent man who knew when to fight, when to flee and when to talk. In his twenty-three years as pirate he had amassed a small fortune and had a small flotilla of four outdated yet fast frigates under his command, manned with mixed crews consisting of batarians like him, vorcha, one or two krogan and a few turians.

Kalla also knew a good opportunity when he saw one, otherwise he would have been a shitty pirate to be fair. And a nearly unarmed ship filled with precious, fresh meat to the brim was such an opportunity. There were batarian warlords and hutt crime barons who would pay large amounts of money for a human slave, the still new, fresh flavor in the galaxy. And a whole ship full of them, just perfect.

Yet the small colony ship, on the way to the single garden world in the system, was still too close to the relay and had too much of a change of getting away if the pirates would strike now. So they kept hiding in the meteors, where they had originally taken refugee from a huttese hunter fleet, on the look out for unsanctioned pirating actions.

So Kalla sat there with his men, waiting and hoping, remaining silent as if their prey could hear them despite the empty space between them. He knew of course, that he could also threw a party with pleasure slaves and lot's of booze and everything and there would be no difference between their chances at being detected, but somehow it felt better this way. Though a pleasure slave on his lap would not be the worst idea. There was this new asari girl he had just bought, perhaps he could spare a bit of time to break her in, humiliate her by raping and beating her into submission right in front of his crew. It would be more entertaining that just sitting there. And while he thought about it, his ticket into a life full of luxury came nearer to him with every second.

* * *

_29th February 2162 – A human colonization ship, filled with colonists, is captured by pirates and the crew and passengers sold on slave auctions in the Skyllian Verge and the Terminus Systems._

_2162 – Slave and pirate raids on human colonies and ships become more frequent. Citadel forces are already overextended and are unable to help and the human system alliance is on it's own._

* * *

It is a fact that people tend to remember the times war more than they remember the times of peace. That is not because they want peace, but because they just can't forget the horrors and terrors of war. And thus it was only natural that when talking about the time the humans and nod came into the galactic society, they mostly spoke about the conflict following it.

The Skyllian Verge had long been a source of headaches for the Citadel Council. Filled with rich planets and asteroid belts, enough resources to fuel the asari economy for years to come, and yet desolate and populated by scum, pirates and slavers. The hutt crime syndicates operated in these regions, as did a large mass of pirates and private security forces, better known as mercenaries.

As much as the Council despised the batarians, before the collapse of the hegemony they had been the only source of stability for this region. After the fall of the batarian society and the founding of the Union of Batarian Planets, several colonies had become the staging point for pirate actions, lawless wastelands or small realms for warlords of every kind, in short, the ideal home for any lawless actions outside the Terminus Systems.

When humanity began to settle on planets in this region, they soon became prey for the Wolves of the Verge, the nickname the pirates and lawless got from the human forces tasked with defending colonies and settlements.

Finally, after several daring attacks and a desolating raid, the System Alliance had enough and began to build a task force to deal with these attacks once and for all. But like many know, it is often the case that before it get's better, things have to become worse.


	4. Chapter 3: The Skyllian War I

**Okay, after two comments and several PMs about the Warhammer 40k species being too weak in this story, I have only to say: You're right. They are weaker than in the 40k universe, because they would totally steamroll everything in the ME universe. And you gotta admit, that would be quite boring, or at least not fitting for this story. The center of this universe, the "Dangerous Galaxy Universe", is the Mass Effect reality, so technology levels, history and the feeling of the galaxy are on that scale.**

**Thanks for reading this. If anyone else want's to whine about their beloved 40k being to weak, well, I don't care.**

**This chapter is, like most of the following ones, more about world building and explaining why things are they are, than about stories. In other words, these are not traditional chapters, but history lessons.**

**Anyway: Onwards, to war an pain and terror!**

* * *

**3****rd**** October 2165 CE**

The human System Alliance was, unlike most non-humans believed, not a singular massive government of all of humanity, but in fact a federation in whom all human governments, nations and colonies, were equal, at least in theory. In praxis however the human senate, a bulbous monster, was a bureaucratic nightmare which was led by several political parties, where debates lasted long and accomplished little. However, singular governments on the other hand were able to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time, as they could pull from growing resources, large amounts of driven manpower and a lack of oversight from the senate.

The new Kinshasa-Class Destroyer was the perfect example. Designed and created by scientists and engineers from the Central African Nations, short CAN, it was the most advanced, most dangerous ship in the human fleet, most likely the next jack of all trades vessel of the System Alliance. It was of a simple and yet ingenious design, based on a long main body, two-hundred and sixty meters long, with forward pointing wings attached, four main thruster engines and a new drive core able to create a better mass effect field than any other core used before by humans. Equipped with not one but two main mass accelerator guns, ten broadside guns per side, a series of twelve anti-missile/anti-rocket laser turrets and seven torpedo tubes, it was the new nightmare of any pirate facing it.

Which was one of the reasons why many batarian and huttese privateers and slavers were cursing humanity, when a human fleet brought the war back to their hideouts and bases, when fire rained down from the heavens and vengeful soldiers stormed across fields of corpses.

* * *

**4****th**** November 2162**

"So, you're doing nothing then?" The tone of Donnel Udina was clearly disappointed, even if councilor Sparatus wasn't too sure about that. He wasn't very good at reading human emotions.

"Mind your tone Ambassador", shot Sparatus' asari colleague, Tevos, back. "We have heard you're plight several times by now and have always taken them seriously. The Citadel Council has already send aid workers to help in rebuilding what you have lost."

"And we thank you for that, but that will neither bring back the dead nor protect our colonies from attacks in the future", answered the human, trying to retain a civil tone and failing at that. "What we need is protection from those who claim they provide it. You."

Sparatus was about to bark this insolent ape to shut his mouth and know his place, but he bit this back. It wasn't like the human was wrong with his accusations. So he remained silent and just glared at the human ambassador, letting his colleagues do the talking. That means, Tevos and Valern, the salarian councilor. The asgard member of the council was absent, like most of the times.

"Humanity has been warned about settling in the Traverse, has it not?", came the clipped voice of Valern. "The Citadel fleets can not be stationed above every single colony of every member species to protect them."

"I am well aware of that...", Udina began to respond, but the salarian cut into it.

"... and we can't send fleets into the Traverse based on accusations from a new member species, no matter which one."

The human seemed to steem with anger, again Sparatus was kind of guessing on that, and glared at the council, before sighing in defeat. "I see. I wish you a good day."

"This meeting of the Citadel Council is adjourned", Tevos said though it was already clear, before all but storming out of the council chamber, though with a lot of grace of course. Sparatus send a glance to the angry human ambassador, before deciding on a course of action.

* * *

To say Donnel Udina was angry would be like saying that the sun was kind of warm. He wasn't just angry, he was steaming with fury, disappointment and hurt pride. The high and mighty Citadel Council, just sitting there with their thumps up their asses while human colonists were getting robbed, abducted, killed and raped.

As he sat on his comfortable chair in his office and drinking his coffee, he needed that stuff to get through the day, he thought about how he could tell the senate the news without getting replaced with someone else. Because that's the way politics work: If there is a problem, find a scape goat and sacrifice it. And he had no desire to be said scape goat.

That was when his omni tool, very useful device, informed him of an incoming call. From the office of the turian councilor. He raised an eyebrow? Did the bird want to gloat and point out how dumb humanity was to build colonies in the Attican Traverse? With a scowl he turned in his chair, facing the small holographic monitor on his desk, and accepted the call.

"Councilor. What can I do for you?" He even managed to keep the sneer out of his voice.

_"Ambassador"_, Sparatus acknowledged him with a small nod. _"Are you alone?"_

Now this was intriguing. Udina's eyebrows nearly met his hairline, before nodding. "Yes, I am alone and this is a secure channel I presume?"

_"Not if the STG is trying to listen in"_, the Councilor answered with a snarl and the turian equivalent of an eye roll. _"But I don't believe they will do anything with the information they can get out of this anyway."_

Instead of replying the human ambassador only waited for his conversational partner to get to the reason he called.

_"We turians have no taste for politicking, so let's cut to the chase, as you humans like to say."_ A short pause, and then Sparatus said: _"The fleets of my people are already stretched thin. We have to take care of the borders with the Terminus Systems as well as with the Batarian Union and now the Brotherhood. We also have to provide security for our own territories as well as our client species protectorates. We have the biggest military fleet in the galaxy and yet it is not enough to protect everything from our enemies."_

Udina studied the turian's face for a few seconds, before he quoted an age old wisdom: "Those who protect everything, protects nothing."

_"Sun Tzu"_, Sparatus answered, a knowing expression on his face. _"The Art of War. An interesting book, one of humanities best, if not the best. But I see you understand our situation."_

The human gave out a heavy, defeated sigh. "You want to help us, but you can't."

_"Exactly. I'm sorry Ambassador, but we have to prioritize."_

With an angry snide tone Udina answered: "And human colonies are not important enough to protect? You wouldn't say the same about asari or turian colonies."

_"I would, if they would hold as little economic and strategic meaning as your's do. And neither have we build any in such stupid locations"_, Sparatus shot back. _"We warned you about settling in the Travserse, especially the Skyllian Verge, no matter how promising it looks to you. Either you protect your colonies your own, or your people are clearly not ready for this galaxy. On this, you are on your own."_

The human ambassador snorted but nodded. Now, how to explain that to his superiors without getting blamed for it?

* * *

**20****th**** December 2162**

Promise was an incredibly rich planet. Vast amounts of platinum and iridium where only waiting to be mined from the large salty desert of the singular land mass, while fertile coastal lands were like an invitation for farmers to settle there. It was a small wonder that no one had colonized the planet before the humans had done so.

The GMM-Group, a large concern from earth, had paid large amounts of money to secure the mining rights and had even paid more to build the first settlement in the middle of the desert. High energy fences to keep out the pesky reptilian beasts living on the planet, living quarters for about two hundred workers and their families, a school, a small hospital, landing pads for shuttles and small ships, top of the line generators, about everything a growing colony could need. And of course the actual mine, the entrance positioned directly above the largest iridium ore of the whole sector.

All in all, the GMM-Group had invested a massive amount of money over nearly five years and where not stopping but even thinking about making the colony bigger. And a group of about twenty batarians, thirty four vorcha, two krogans and nine turians needed only three hours to shred it all too pieces, burn everything to the ground, capture every child and half the adult population of the colony and rob equipment and raw resources with a black-market merit of estimated two million credits.

The news of the attack reached earth about two days later. And on Christmas Evening 2162 the first pictures of the burned out colony, the dried out corpses still in the streets, were put on air by the biggest news stations.

* * *

**6****th**** January 2163**

The bar was dirty, cheap and stank of booze and sweat, just like the few inhabitants it had. At a table in the back a bottle of bottom shelf liquor was standing half emptied next to a small glass and a gun. It was a very nice gun, one of the new pistols using element zero cores to produce a mass reducing field, firing small grains of metal at high speeds, also equipped with an improved cooling system to fire more rounds before overheating. Rather big and blocky, in grey and black, the pistol was probably the most expensive thing in the whole bar.

Not that the owner of said gun was interested in this fact, he just sat there, leaned back on his chair, staring into nothingness, ignoring the heat that ruled in the interior of the building. The ice cubes in his whiskey glass had long since ceased to exist, as did his personal hygiene, but no one cared.

It could have been one of those scenes from old Western-Vids, a saloon in the middle of nowhere with a stranded hero. Not that he would call himself a hero, not in a thousand years, but stranded he was. The scene got even better when the door to the outside slid open and a man with dark complexion stepped inside, a man not quite fitting in the scenery.

He was dressed in a nice suit, a clean one, and his black hair was groomed, giving him the appearance of a well dressed, successful business man. In short, he was out of place in this location, but he did not seem to care. He just looked around once and as he had found what he was looking for, or who, he walked up to the table in the corner. "Lieutenant Massani?"

A gruff grunt was his answer. "No. Just Massani. Zaeed to my friends. That means Massani to you."

The man in the expensive dark blue suit smiled a tight smile and sat down. "Mister Massani, we have an offer to make you."

"Who's we?", asked the grumpy man on the other side of the table. Dressed in a crumpled, dirty shirt and pants he was a stark contrast to his conversational partner, his arms tattooed and a pair of battered dog tags hanging around his neck.

"My name's Vido Santiago and I'm tasked with providing security for a promising colony in the Verge."

"So, what do you need me for?"

The man, Santiago, grinned. "I'm good with finances and I know an opportunity when I see one. You are a highly decorated former marine now living as mercenary. What would you say, when I tell you, that we could work together to build a Private Security Force?"

"A mercenary crew", the gruff mercenary and former soldier spit the words like he would do with a poisonous fruit. "Sod off."

"I'm not talking about a crew, I'm talking about an army."

Zaeed glared at the man still in his sight while he had told him to sod of. Either he was brave or stupid. Either way, he was annoying. "If you're not talking about handing out millions like candies, then sod off, or I'll rip you a second arsehole."

"Actually, my budget is currently at 16 million credits, likely to grow in the next month." The grin on the dark skinned mans face was infuriating, but if what he said was true, then he wasn't just full of shit, but also of money.

"Well, keep talking. What can good old Zaeed Massani do for you?"

* * *

**30****th**** March 2163**

Jack Harper was a patriot. He was also a man of action, thus it had never been a question for him if he wanted to stay behind on earth or go out with all the other brave souls, to explore a galaxy full of possibilities. Not as explorer however, but as soldier protecting those who can not do it themselves.

It was the sound he had secretly feared, that woke him from his slumber. Jumping out of his bed he all but stumbled out of the barracks, only half dressed but his weapon in hand, and ran to the command center. And with command center he meant the container in which the sensory data from the satellites were coming together and the officers were usually sitting around on their asses. As he all but jumped into the container he was immediately assaulted with the shouting and the screaming of several of his comrades.

He haven't even been fully inside the room when his superior officer, a commander, yelled at him to get his men ready for defending the colony, because three ships of batarian design had come out of the Mass Relay and were on their way to the colony.

The human soldiers, a group of thirty five men and women, had prepared the small settlement as good as they could in the time they had been given, erecting guard towers, preparing defensive positions, training the colonists in the use of small arms and setting up two anti air gun turrets, though one of them was not yet ready. In short, they had been as ready for an attack of an enemy army as they could be.

When the slavers jumped out of the shuttles in mid flight using small jet packs to land right on top of them, they hade been totally unprepared.

They were the first batarians Jack had ever seen outside of vids, four eyed humanoid beings with needle like teeth and the tendency to be massive assholes. The first close up had been one dressed in red and green ragtag armor, jumping out of the shuttle directly above Jacks position, brandishing an assault armor with which he was shooting furiously. Six carefully aimed shots from Jacks own weapon broke through the pirates shields before he even reached the ground, another volley reduced the chest piece into scrap metal and the last shot punctured a lung, sending the four eyed alien to the ground, gasping for air and not believing that he had just been killed.

Of course that was not the end of the battle. In fact, Jack fought for nearly thirty minutes. First to follow orders, then to protect the people, finally just for his bare life. He survived, if barely. With one eye blackened from a shrapnel, his hands shaking, his breathing heavy, but otherwise uninjured, he sat in the middle of the medical station when everything was over, his back against the wall.

Next to him was Eva Harper. Or, to be more precise, the now lifeless body of Eva Harper.

* * *

**11****th**** April 2163**

"The Humans are not ready for us, it's simple as that", Krang Tovan said before taking another drag from his cigar. Tobacco, the only good thing that the human had brought them in his eyes. And of course their females, as some of them were quite pleasing, not only to the eyes by the way. "Easy prey and easy takings. Sometimes I nearly feel bad for robbing them."

Dressed in colorful robes of silk and other expensive fabrics, sitting on a massive cushion and surrounded by his personal pleasure slaves, asari, taung and even a few humans, he looked like some sort of sheik from old human times. It wasn't that far from the truth.

Because Krang was a batarian warlord ruling over an entire star system. When the Batarian Hegemony had collapsed after years of crisis, several ambitious individuals had used the time to secure themselves a fortune, be it in money, troops or other goods. His predecessor had taken over the small system with his troops, disposed of the government and had put in place himself as governor, ruling over about sixteen thousand free batarians and about the same amount of slaves. Now, about two hundred years later, the moon Torfan was one of the main trade hubs and pirate dens in the Verge, a population of about one hundred thousand people and nearly double that amount of slaves.

Pirate Lords bowed to Krang because they needed his docking ports and his markets, several Hutt clans had good relationships with him, other Warlords feared him. His underground strongholds were vast, well constructed and steaming with troops, his dockyards were always full with ships needing to be repaired, his slaves were among the most beautiful and exotic, his wealth was immense. To make it short, Krang was one of the reasons why batarians had such a bad reputation.

A gurgling sound was made by one of his guests, a hollow, deep laughter, before saying something in his own language. A second later the asari personal secretary, and perhaps concubine, translated: "The great and powerful Grubo the Hutt agrees with your statement, but wishes to point out, that they are making us richer. He wishes to inform you all, that we perhaps should thank them for their stupidity."

Several other guests chuckled. It was a council spectres wet dream, a room filled with some of the most hated individuals of the galaxy. Two high ranking members of the Hutt clans, several batarian warlords, three different pirate lords and several mercenary leaders. All in all, if a bomb would go up in the place, the galaxy would have been a better place. It was not to be of course.

From her position behind one of the pirate lords, a guard watched the proceedings. As such a gathering was as much about showing wealth as it was about politics, everyone had brought exotic slaves, well armed guards, expensive clothing and rare trinkets. A slim humanoid in an asari armor did not look out of place at all, even with the helmet up and everything, no one even glanced at her twice.

And thus the guard that wasn't a guard at all just stood there and listened and watched, as plans were made to attack which colony, to hoard even more wealth, to sell slaves to which buyer and so forth. And finally, Krang, the host of this meeting, got to the point where he would unravel his plan. It wasn't a very good plan, though a bold and daring one. Perhaps just daring enough.

"The humans are weak", Krang began and stood up, the cigar by now held by a blonde human female slave, clad in only a bikini and a chain around her neck. "But they are only one fish in the pond and there are others. The Union, the Republic, free colonies. The table is covered with delicacies, only waiting for us to dig in."

"And how do you propose we do that? I am not keen on turian fleets attacking our holdings", grumbled another man, this one a taung pirate.

"Oh, don't worry about that", the batarian answered and grinned a predatory smile that gave him the appearance of a wolf. "In this room are the most influential individuals of the underworld assembled. Bribing officials, hiring mercenary armies, smuggling arms, slaves, drugs, whatever we want, we can do anything. And I have heard from a good source that the turian fleets are occupied elsewhere. When we work together we can carve out an empire unlike any other before. And all we have to do..." The grin got even broader. "... is take the opportunity."

The seemingly asari guard, though she wasn't one, remained silent and gave no indication that she was even listening. But though she was disgusted by the necessity to be in the same room, even on the same colony, as these monsters, she knew that the rune-seer would be pleased. Everything was going as planned.

* * *

**7****th**** October 2163**

"We must do something", demanded Admiral Hacket with a heavy sigh. He was only one of the six leading admirals and generals in the room, though one of three who were actually there. Three of his colleagues had been unable to make the way to Arcturus station and were only present via hologram. Thanks to humanities friendship with the citadel they had been given some nice boosts to their technology, including this feature. "In the last two months alone three colonies and no less than seven trade ships had been raided."

"The senate is still debating over the exact amount of forces we should deploy and where to. And they have tasked a comite with judging the threat", answered Admiral Drescher, the only female in this small group of individuals. She clenched and unclenched her jaw, before adding: "And while they do that, human colonists are robbed, killed and abducted into slavery."

Everyone present new the feeling of being helpless and they also knew who to thank for that. The human system alliance forces may have been weak compared to the bigger fishes in the pond, but they were catching up fast, faster than most would have thought. Now the real problem wasn't that they did not have the forces to act, because they did, it was because the senate was debating over who should lead, what should be done, which forces should be deployed and how much credits would cost it.

At the time being, the human fleets were forced to wait for things to happen and then arrive to late to help the colonies, as by their arrival the aggressors would be long gone. Some bigger colonies had started to hire mercenaries and build their own private defense forces but where not allowed to own war ships, thus a few company holdings were by now protected by the new, fast growing mercenary company known as Blue Suns, whose aid however were refused by the human senate.

"Politicians...", General Williams, a heavyset man with stern eyes, mumbled in distaste. He was the only one to voice his anger, but not the only to hold it. "The Pirates have attacked our colonies from the beginning, but in the last months they have become even more daring and more organized. Someone is motivating them."

"I think so too", answered Admiral Kurkov, at the moment only being there as a hologram. As commander of the new fourth fleet he was stationed at the biggest and most important colony in the Verge, Eylsium, thus unable to just leave his post. As his fleet was not yet at full strength and was also tasked with providing security and aid to the workers at Elysium, he was forced to sit tight. And it was apparent on his stern, grizzled face that he was unhappy about it. "It would be best if we find out who that is, but until then we must simply protect what we have as good as we can. To put it simple, we need more men and ships."

"Well, we don't have more", answered Hacket. "We will be stretched thin with protecting the biggest settlements as it is. And the defense comite has buried their heads so deep in the sand that they choose to ignore the situation we have at hand."

"Why?"

"Money", answered Williams with a grunt. "We should slow down our expanse, but the economic boom of these new colonies has filled so many pockets, that all these concerns and private interest groups don't want to hear anything of it. And as they pay large amounts of taxes, their opinion is heavier than those of simple colonists."

"Exactly. Military actions are expensive and..."

Hacket stopped in the middle of his sentence as his omni tool, another one of those nifty technologies from the citadel, informed him of an incoming call. One from his aid. On a high priority channel. His eyebrows rose, before answering: "Yes?"

_"Admiral, Mindoir has been raided. A surveillance satellite shot this picture before being destroyed."_ Attached to the call was a small file which Hacket opened immediately. If it had been possible, his eyebrows would have risen even higher.

"Lady, Gentleman, I think we have just found something to light fires under the senates asses." And with a small movement of his right index finger he transferred the image to the central holo projector of the conference room. The image of something ugly and ungainly appeared and after several seconds the people studying it understood that it was a ship, a long, brutish and bulbous vessel, reminding them of an oceanic mammal from earth.

"What is that?", asked Williams with his eyes in slits, his face marred with an expression of disapproval.

"A hutt destroyer", answered Drescher, her mouth a stern line. She had seen two of these once, at the Citadel where they had served as bodyguards for a private hutt luxury liner. But this particular model was unknown to her. "Mindoir had been attacked by the Hutt or at least someone who had bought one of their ships. A new one."

"Those are no mere pirates", grumbled Hacket, his face serious and his voice grave. "It looks like we have just found the ones motivating the attacks. I will send a response fleet to Mindoir immediately, the comite be damned. We can not just sit idly by while these bastards take whatever they want."

"That is not enough", grumbled Krukov, his white mustache trembling in repressed anger. "We must finally hit them where it hurts. Otherwise we will be not only the laughing stock of the whole galaxy, we will also never be taken seriously again. We will search for them and find them, then we will anhiliate them."

"You do know that you are talking about disobeying direct orders?", asked Williams, his mouth set in a stern line. "If you do that, you will be released from your post."

"Well, what do you propose we do?", shot Krukov back. "That we sit here with our thumbs up our asses?"

"I propose we force the comite to admit the situation. If they don't act now, we will release statements that thanks to their not acting, citizens of the System Alliance are threatened and in high danger. I know one or two reporters who would be delighted to make some reportages about this scandal."

* * *

**9****th**** October 2163**

When the response fleet, partly from the first, the third and the fourth fleet, arrived at Mindoir, it was of course too late. As a small farming colony the planet had been seen as unworthy of being protected by a standing force and the next armed ships had been a relay jump away, giving the attackers more than enough time to get in, attack, raid and get out before being caught.

What the groups of soldiers searching the ruins found was a terrible, horrible sight and it would haunt many of them for years. The bodies of those unfit for slavery had been partly eaten, sometimes in their own beds, corpses of raped women were thrown into the streets like trash. A newborn had been shot inside it's crib, the father of the babe laying with his eyes missing in the kitchen, the prefabricated house robbed of anything worth money.

Hannah Shepard was one of the soldiers looking for survivors. Though a deck officer, she had felt it important to do her duty and volunteered. As soon as she had set foot inside the settlement, she had been assaulted by the smell of burned flesh, rotting corpses and smoke, making her sick and nearly letting her keel over.

Though everything in her told her to run, she forced herself to look at it, to keep standing on the surface and to keep searching, though she felt no duty. It was a grim, horrifying thing to do, counting corpses and searching through the ruins of a small settlement that had just weeks before been a flourishing colony.

She was standing in the kitchen of one of the buildings, one of these prefabricated ones that were popular at colonies for being cheap and easy to set up, looking through the cupboards, when she heard something coming from behind her. Slowly she turned around, listening to the sound, trying to locate the position, but not seeing anything. It sounded like a whimper, barely there. Kneeling down and looking under the kitchen table she saw an air duct, protected by a grid. Slowly and trying to look as none threatening as possible, she crawled towards it and with careful movements she pulled the grid away.

When she saw what was behind it she felt her heart ripped to pieces and put together again. There, laying curled into a ball, was a small child, no older than three or perhaps four years, as old as her son back home. Red hair in two pigtails, dirty clothing, a small stuffed bunny in her arms. The girl did not protest as she pulled her into her arms, too weak from days of hiding and not eating or drinking, and carried her out of the house.

"Hello Sweetie. My name is Hannah. And you are?"

"... Jane...", the small child whispered, before her eyes closed and she fell asleep. The child did not know it then, but in the exact moment she was carried out the door of er ransacked home by her savior, she had brought back the faith in the good of the universe for many soldiers serving in the fleet.

* * *

**28****th**** October 2163**

It's interesting what public opinion can do. A salarian professor of xeno-society-studies had been on earth, when the backlash of the situation in the Traverse came to bite the governments into the Behind. He was quite puzzled and astonished about the fast response from the Human System Alliance Senate, as it had beforehand been rather slow. In his paper about human society he wrote, that human governments are able to work quite quickly and prompt, if only motivated enough. The idea of not being re-elected thanks to low public opinion, was one such motivator.

First thing the senate did after three days of protests and even small scale riots in the biggest cities on earth, was giving the military orders to get things under control and declaring the situation "war like conditions". The second was giving the colonies under private control more freedom in their protection.

Sardo Travok, nephew of the self proclaimed King of Torfan, was young, daring and had his head filled with stories about adventures and riches that awaited right behind the next relay. So, he had done what every young batarian would have done in his position, he bought a ship, hired a crew and lit up the thrusters to get himself some slaves and spoils. He was the first to learn a lesson, his colleagues had so far been lucky enough to evade.

His ship, a batarian frigate of about one hundred and thirty meters lengths, dropped out of FTL right on top of a small human colony he did not even knew the name of. He also did not care for the name, as he was sure that it would not remain standing for long. Grinning like a madmen, his mind slightly dulled from the high quality ale he had drunk just a few minutes prior, he sat in his command chair and was about to give orders, when the ship was rocked by something. Hard.

"What just happened?!", he yelled in shock.

"We're hit by an MA!", his weapons officer yelled back. "Eezo-Signatures right before us... oh sh-"

Again the frigate was hit, again and again. The pilot, a rather good pilot by the way, tried to fly evasive maneuvers, but as they had come out of FTL as near as possible, there was not much room for them to evade slugs the size of a modern refrigerator, fired by a group of defense satellites.

The KMW-Defensive-Satellite-System "Alligator" was about sixty meters long and was in essence a long cannon based on ME-technology, put on a long chassis, firing massive, high powered rounds that shattered on impact and ripped large holes in the shields or armor of any ship it hit. A whole series of VI's were operating the systems, the cooling units, the Element-Zero-Core, the steering nozzles and all the other parts. A series of massive cooling units allowed a high firing rate and though the satellite was only filled with enough ammunition for one hundred shots, it was quite enough to scare of single pirates.

Especially if there wasn't just one of these things in orbit, but twenty. Sardo's dreams about becoming a rich pirate died as his ship was shredded to pieces, because the GMM-Group was quite frankly tired of their holdings being attacked. To be fair, the colony would have been in grave danger if Sardo Travok had brought with him three more frigates and had just arrived further away in the system, giving him time to formulate an attack plan. Fortunately, he had been an idiot.

* * *

In another dimension, the Skyllian Verge had been a rather lawless, but calm region. In a dimension without the Old Ones, with the Batarian Hegemony still intact and the Turian forces not in engagements on all sides, the pirates of the Verge had to be rather careful. But in a dimension where the Turian forces were besieged on multiple fronts, the Hegemony not around to keep up the status que, were the Old Ones had filled the galaxy with more species than originally planned and the Pirates of the Traverse being funded by large scale criminal organizations, they did not have to be careful.

At the end of the year 2163 the pirate gangs, warlords and slave traders of the Verge were rich and fat from their spoils from human colonies. Rich enough to buy military grade armor and weapons, better ship equipment and superior technology from rogue traders, hutt crime lords and smugglers. It was also at the same time, that they first encountered serious resistance.

Attacking ships are, by nature, in the better position in a fight. Because sensors are bound by the speed of light, other than communications and ships using mass effect technology, an incoming force can surprise any defending force because they are there before they can be detected with luminal sensors. As the human doctrine of defense had so far been to defend a few important colonies and have response fleets in case of an attack, the attacking slavers and pirates had encountered nearly no serious resistance. However, when suddenly several human companies began producing defense satellites, thanks to the designs from the allied Taung Republic, and the human mining operations were more and more protected by large mercenary forces, it became clear that the time for easy raids were over.

So they began looking for other prey. Normally, pirates would have just stopped being so extremely greedy and daring, understanding that the fat years were over and would not come back. But these weren't just criminals. Because it wasn't just a few gangs and crews, it had become a whole economy, fueling the black markets of the Terminus Systems, filling the coffers of the Hutt clans and the bank accounts of warlords. In other words, they needed to keep raiding to keep things afloat, otherwise their whole society would collapse under itself. And that they did, only no longer the humans.

* * *

**17th December 2163**

When the attack came, Tourmark Kala'iras Balak had been on watch duty. As a proud member of the batarian armed forces, he was very thorough in his duties and did not allow himself to slack off. Most of the universe saw his species as slave holding, criminal thugs, only interested in serving their lower desires. That was the reason he despised the slave rings and pirate gangs of the Verge and the Terminus systems, they gave his people a bad reputation.

Kala'iras was a proud, perhaps even arrogant, and stern soldier, raised to be the best and never to settle for anything less. It was the same way he was raising his children, be them sons or daughters, he did not allow them to become second grade because they slacked off. This way of thinking was what has got him his medals, his post, his rank as Tourmark and of course the admiration of his men.

"Sir, incoming element-zero signatures sighted by our outlying drones", one of his men informed him from one of the terminals in the eight sited control room. "They're big."

Turning on his heel he walked up to said man, his heels clicking on the floor. He knew that nothing big was scheduled for today, he knew the flightplane by heart. "Can you identify them?"

"Negative sir, our drone just turned dark", came the answer.

All four of his eyes turned into slits as he tried to assert the situation. As officer on watch over the whole planet of Camala, the only colony the union had founded in the last decade, he was responsible for more than one million inhabitants. "Put all units on alert", he barked the order while turning back around and stalking back to his command chair in the middle of the holographic display. The lighting was turned down and replaced with a red ting to it, basking the underground bunker into an eery sight. "I want the AA guns online and our gunships in the air asap. And give me a secure line to Tourmark Sonto'ok."

"We're being hailed", another of his officers informed him directly after he had finished giving his orders, most likely remembering the last lashing he gave another man after being interrupted in the middle of the sentence.

He sat down on the command chair and nodded to said officer, a young male Pen-Kentarch. Only a second later the holographic generated image of a krogan appeared directly in front of him, grinning and showing a disturbingly large amount of teeth while doing it. _"Am I speaking with the man in charge?"_

"I am Tourmark Balak, the officer currently in command. So, yes. Who are you?"

_"Gatatog Skarr, leader of this fleet of ships. You will give us all your Element Zero, twenty million credits and one thousand of your best looking females, and we will let you live... perhaps."_ It was spoken with the authority of a thug and the pride of a conquerer, but Balak was not impressed. Only insulted.

"Listen, scum, here is my counter offer: You get your ugly pieces of rust out of my system or I will push a Mass Accelerator round so far up your ass that you can chew on it", he snarled through clenched teeth. "The Batarian Union will neither be robbed nor threatened."

For a second the krogan just looked at him, before the grin returned. _"I have hoped you would say that, four-eye."_ With that the line was cut and the image of the reptilian alien was replaced with the outlay of the planet and the surrounding space.

Balak snarled and gripped his chair. He had no idea from where, but the pirates had assembled a massive fleet of frigates, destroyers and cruisers, some of them as long as four hundred meters. There were outdated, blocky batarian designs and the famous, dagger like taung vessels, but also hutt cruisers with their bulbous forms, as if they were pregnant sea animals. And they had troop carriers with them, lot's of them, either for the spoils they were hoping for or transporting actual ground forces.

"Energy rise in the enemy fleet!"

"They're firing!"

"Tourmark Sonto'ok on a secure line for you sir!"

Again he snarled and bared his teeth, before pulling himself together. He had to defend a colony with more than one million inhabitants and also the one main Element-Zero producer of the Union. No time to get angry.

* * *

**So much for that. And in the next chapter, the Batarians will be the good guys. I always wanted to write something like this.**


	5. Chapter 4: The Skyllian War II

_I'm not much of a story teller, or to be honest, not a good one. However, I love building worlds, like you will most likely notice in this chapter. I also like the batarians, even in the normal ME-Universe, simply because we know so little about them. They are, in essence, a paranoid, totalitarian state with a long history of violence, but other than that there is little to go on about them. In other words, the perfect playground for someone like me._

_I'd like to point out, that the batarians in my universe however are something else than in canon, as their history have developed in a different way and their main body of government, the Union, reigns over a smaller region than the Hegemony does in canon, but is also more militarized as it is ruled over by the military. Imagine a combination of the Byzantium Empire, the Cardassian Union from Star Trek and the Soviet Union... only with four eyes._

* * *

_I use batarianized byzantine ranks for the Batarian Union soldiers, here the translation and explanation:_

_Strategos = General, commands one Thema (10.000 men, 10 Towers)_

_Tourmark = Colonel, usually commands one Tower (1.000 soldiers, 5 Banners)_

_Draunk = Lieutenant Colonel, usually commands one Banner (200 soldiers, 2 Centurias)_

_Kentark = Major, usually commands one Centuria (100 soldiers, 10 Guards)_

_Dekark = Lieutenant, usually commands one Guard (10 Soldiers)_

* * *

**17th December 2163**

Fear is a universal feeling, something every halfway intelligent being knows understands, except AI's as they have no emotions, but that is beside the point. Fear was in essence a good thing, keeping people alive and awake if needed, thus every soldier worth his grain knew fear and welcomed it like an old friend in times of danger. Several members of the group of batarians putting on their gear were such soldiers, who methodically put on their armor and equipment like it was a ritual, helping each other getting into their protective gear and speaking like they were going to the shooting range, not into a battle.

It was the barracks of the 3rd Centuria, 2th Banner, 2nd Tower, South-Eastern Thema, short the 322SE, one of the many barracks on Camala, equipped with everything a single unit needed, be it medical station, mess hall, shooting range, training rooms, entertainment center, even a bar and comfortable steam sauna. In short, an independent, and well fortified, bunker system, where the soldiers ate, laughed, cried, lived and trained together. One hundred men who knew each other like they were family, that was a Centuria, the batarian standard unit.

The 322SE Camala, the short name for this specific unit, was a standard infantry Centuria, the soldiers dressed in medium heavy armor that had a good balance between mobility and protection, equipped with personal kinetic barriers, small med kits, a pistol and an assault rifle and one in five soldiers carrying a sniper rifle and one in five a heavy weapon. They also carried small grenades, mostly explosive ones, curved blades for melee combat, biomonitors in their helmets and auto-injectors in case of emergency.

A young soldier, his four eyes blinking in an irregular pattern, stared down at his forearms where another, older soldier was busy with applying the auto injector. Sure, one could do it one self, but it was easier if someone else did it, thus it was normal for batarian members of the military to help each other getting dressed.

"Something bothering you Shortie?", asked the old soldier, not even looking up from his work, fastening the straps and pulling them tight.

"... no." It did not sound very convincing.

"Don't lie to me, my six year old son can do that better than you", answered the older one, finished with the left arm and now switching to the right one. The auto-injector was a device the size of a palm, strapped to the underside of the forearms and filled with several phials of combat drugs, using the skin of the carrier as a link to the biomonitor.

The smaller soldier, thus his moniker Shortie, sighed. "It's my first battle... I have never shot a weapon at someone."

"You have trained for this. We have trained for this", answered the older one, called Vit. His voice was calm and reassuring, as if he was talking to a teenager unsure of the first date. And as Shortie actually WAS a teenager, it was rather fitting. "Look boy... we all had our first battles. It's bloody, it's dangerous and dirty. But I tell you what: You are not alone out there, we will go in as a unit, and we will go out as a unit, no one will be left behind. You understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Don't sir me boy", Vit chastised with a chuckle and stood up. "Come, help me with my injector."

* * *

The space battle over the planet of Camala was, in one word, brutal. As the main source for Element Zero used in the Batarian Union, it was a well protected world, defended by no less than seventy frigates, twenty nine destroyers and one dreadnought, more than enough to scare off most attackers. There were also rings upon rings of defense platforms and sensor satellites feeding defensive ground based anti space cannons, thus making the system one of the most, if not the most, well defended systems in the Verge.

More than one hundred frigates, sixty-seven cruisers, twenty heavy battle cruisers and four carriers however were a strong enemy indeed. The blocky, ugly and functional batarian ships of the defense fleet were faced with a fleet of ragtag ships, an alliance of different pirate groups using different sort of vessels, all banded together by the power of a few individuals. Warlord Gatatog Skarr, the commander of the pirate fleet, used a simple yet effective tactic: Arrive in full force and drive a spear point right into the defenses and then deal with the remains.

The batarian captains on the other hand were totally unprepared for what had come over them, surprised not only by the attack itself, but also the scale of it. Sure, they responded immediately, but as their vessels had been spread out above the whole system, centered at the planet Camala of course, they were in a very difficult position. Not only where the pirate ships superior in numbers, they were also concentrated at one point.

All they could do was buy time for their comrades at the ground. When the images of the dreadnought "Kar'shan's Pride" making a suicide run against enemy lines while burning a leaking eezo flickered across the screens on Camala, all it did was strengthening the grim determination of the batarian defenders.

The skies over Camala were burning when the vessels in low orbit, the last line of defense, fell apart and were ripped to pieces by the hail of mass accelerator rounds. From the ground the civilians could see a spectacular view, yet it filled them with dread, as they were evacuated into the deep bunkers, leaving behind everything that would slow them down. High above them their first defense against the horrors of the Verge were burning and their protectors dying.

* * *

**18****th**** December 2163**

"INCOMING!" That was the last sound Shortie heard, yelled by his squad leader, before throwing himself to the ground and everything around him was shaken by yet another explosion. Instead of coming at them like an ork Waagh would have done, the pirate alliance had chosen another tactic, namely bombing the shit out of them. Massive rounds fired by war ships were ripping open the ground around heavy fortifications and reducing them to scrap, bombs from small and nimble fighters were reducing the numbers of the Camala Thema's by destroying heavy weapon turrets, smaller fortified positions and AA-guns.

"I wish they would just come at us, so we could rip them a fifth eyehole", grumbled Shortie from his position with his head under his hands, his whole body pressed into the ground.

"Most of them have only two eyes!", another soldier, he had no idea who it was, yelled at that.

"See!", a third chimed in and laughed a bit. "They need three more!"

Several others chuckled too, including Shortie.

* * *

**20****th**** December 2163**

After two days of bombardment, a cowardly tactic used by those to weak for a straight up fight, the drop ships finally made their way down to the surface of Camala. Khel Garnt was unable to keep his broad grin in check and was thankful for his helmet, as thus his vorcha underlings were unable to see it. Together with these pieces of vorcha scrap he was sitting in one of the drop ships designed to bring down vast amounts of troops to the surface in record time.

Like the big ships which had brought them to this fight, the drop ships had been designed and paid for by the hutt, yet build in independent wharves in the Terminus Systems. They were neither comfortable nor pretty, but they did their job, and their job was to bring thirty warriors from a ship to the surface of a planet. Thanks to their roomy interior, and the disregard for personal space, the Blood Pack had actually crammed in nine Krogan in heavy armor and more than forty Vorcha, equipped with mixed weaponry.

Warning lights flared up all around them and they braced themselves for the impact, which came a few seconds later. Vorcha were thrown to the ground, a weapon was fired by accident and the slug buried itself in the arm of an unfortunate Blood Pack member, but then the large ramp was lowered with a heavy thump and they stormed into battle.

Garnt kept grinning and charged out, his flame thrower held high and with a mighty war cry on his lips. For a second he was blinded but kept running anyway, before he blinked away the dizziness and could take a look. He had seen a few shitty places, but this was a bad, even for him.

The whole area was nothing more than impact craters and scraps of metal on the ground, he could even see a burned out vehicle of unknown design still smoking about twenty meters to his left. Not that he had much time for sightseeing, as all around him defense fire hit his men. Seems like the button pushers had not done their job right.

"Well, more for me!"

Using all his strength Garnt pushed forward into the direction of the bunker entrance they were tasked to secure. All around him his underlings were mowed down by the defense fire of the fucking four eyes, but everything that hid him was either swallowed up by his barriers, his armor or he just shrugged it off. With a mighty jump he crossed the last meters and the low wall used as coverage, nearly falling into the trench behind it, then he fired his weapon directly into the line of defenders.

"BURN YOU PIYAKS!"

His flame thrower all but melted away personal shielding and in a manner of seconds armor was heated up to deadly temperatures, boiling the batarian soldiers in it. With a broad grin under his helmet Garnt turned to look for more prey and ducked at the same time, so that he wasn't that much of a target for enemy fire. This was glorious, the Blood Pack storming the fields of battle and bringing death and destruction to the arrogant Batarian Union.

Thanks to their tough biology, the krogan and vorcha warriors of the Blood Pack were ideal storm troopers, being fast, hardy and ferocious, thus they were tasked with the initial ground attack. After the bombardment had destroyed most of the outlying secured positions, the pirates ground forces had to move in. The real challenge was still ahead of them, storming the heavily fortified fortresses of Camala, rip them apart, pull out their riches and most importantly, serve a steaming pile of shaming defeat to the Union Armies.

When the Hegemony had broken apart and large parts of it had been taken over by the military, the old leaders were disposed off. Shortly after the Union had been formed and began with securing what was theirs and rebuilding what had been lost. Without allies and surrounded by ruins, the batarians had forged a new mindset for themselves, one heated in war, hammered in loss and cooled in desperation.

The Union had no contacts with any other government despite the barest necessities and allowed no one into their borders, nor their citizens to leave them. What little the Citadel races knew of them was, that they were paranoid, isolationistic and had a grim outlook on life. And that their entire society was highly militarized. The inhabitants of the Verge however also knew, that the Union as a whole looked down on them.

Garnt however had no time for such thoughts, as the fight was far from over. He had to give it to these Piyaks, they did not run nor hesitate, they fought with everything they had. Over the course of the next two hours he lost his flame thrower and had to switch to his shotgun, was forced into lethal melee combat with the batarian defenders and had all in all a very fun time.

However, he also lost sight of his unit. Not that he cared much for them, the blood rage had taken hold of him and all that was for him was battle, slaughter and ripping apart limps and bodies. Finally, after more than an hour of brutal trench fighting he finally was alone. There were only distant sounds of battle and weapon fire, the smell of smoke and carnage in the air.

Turning around he saw the trench filled with a few dead Vorcha and even less dead batarians, it was a nearly abandoned part of the front. Chuckling to himself he stomped to the next ladder and climbed out of the trench, on the search for the next battle... and saw a slaughterhouse.

Behind him was the area where the drop ships had brought them down and the trench system, before him the about twenty yards between the trenches and the entrance to the bunker system. And it was filled with the torn apart bodies of several vorcha blood pack members and even one or two krogan. As the scope of the heavy defense turrets, manned by batarian gunners, settled on him, he also knew why. Then thirty seven rounds broke his barriers apart, nineteen slugs all but destroyed his helmet, and about a hundred bullets turned his head and upper body into an ugly smear on the ground.

* * *

Kala'iras Balak stared at the map in front of him. It wasn't one of those fancy holographic ones used in the Central Command station, but an old fashioned one using a simple monitor the size of a large dinner table, showing the tunnel system, bunkers, fortifications and outlying areas of his sector.

Under his watchful eye more and more angry red dots disappeared from their position at the entrances, either because they were killed or because they retreated. Still, the wave of disposable soldiers had all but overrun their first line of defense, the trench system manned by the 952 and 842. They had paid a heavy blood toll, more than one thousand man dead while only killing about a tenth of that number themselves, but then again, they seemed to have that numbers.

"Central Command gives orders to hold the line", his communications officer informed him, his tone all business.

Would Balak have been a human, he would have rolled with the eyes. Really, now, holding the line? What a great surprise. Of course they had to hold the line, that was their entire reason for the soldiers being there, what else should they do? Dressing up in skirts and dance while singing and throwing flowers? Though the image was amusing, as much as disturbing, Balak just grunted and instead turned to his adjutant.

"What of our food and water supplies?"

"Fully stocked", came the dutiful answer. "With normal rations we could hold out for seven years."

"Including the civilians?"

"... um... If we feed them too, about one year." A pause. "Do we feed them?"

"That's a decision for the Strategi", Balak said without giving it a second thought, then changing the subject. "We pull back the 952 and the 842 to the medical center and..." He was interrupted when the ground was shaken slightly. "Have these idiots starting bombing us again?"

"Positive Tourmark", reported one of his officers from a sensor station. "Scouts and outlying cameras are reporting several squadrons of bombers, most of them of taung design."

"Ugly flies...", mumbled Balaks adjutant and the Tourmark had to agree. The so called _TIE-Fighters_ of the Taung Republic were cheap, easy to produce and a sore sight for any batarian, two vertical wings attached to a round cockpit. In a single word: Ugly.

"Seems they are not happy about their offensive being pushed back", Balak thought out loud. He doubted that they were really trying to destroy the fortresses, that would render them unable to get their hands on any spoils. But then again, it was nearly suicidal attacking the planet anyway.

"They can try, I doubt they can reach us down here." It was a young Dekark that said that, grinning a broad, perhaps stupid grin. Immediately he was hit against the head by Balak for that comment.

"Shut up Dekark, keep up the discipline. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." With a slight sigh the commanding officer turned back to his adjutant. "The 842 and the 952 to the medical center, the 112 shall reinforce the northeastern bunker, I want them completely secured."

"Yes sir."

* * *

**21****th**** December 2163**

After the first wave of attack had brought fast victories over the first line of defense, the trench systems, the next waves were repelled with alarming effectiveness. The fortified positions in the bunkers and tunnel entrances allowed the batarian soldiers to throw back attackers a hundred times their numbers, making use of turrets and heavy weaponry. After gotten their nose bloodied on too many fronts in a too short amount of time, the Blood Pack, the one force with the heaviest losses, demanded a change of tactics.

It had taken a bit of time for the heavy assault vehicles to be unloaded from the mighty transport ships, being to big and unwieldy to be carried by drop ships, time the fleet commanders had been hoping to avoid, as they were lusting for a quick victory. As their initial assault's had failed however, they had been forced to do so and after the last pirates blood had dried on the surface, the armoured tanks of the united pirate fleet rushed across the fields of Camala. They were welcomed with missile launchers and particle accelerators firing Element Zero slugs. More than a fourth of the vehicles did not reach their destination.

Those reaching their destination had unloaded their passengers directly into the emplacements, yet most attackers were killed immediately by grenades, assault rifles or simply pistols, but at least they had the chance to take some batarians with them. Not that there weren't any batarians in the attacking forces.

A few positions secured, the fleet leaders were seeing steps into the right direction, when their troops were pushed out again by those union troops held back deeper inside the earth.

Massive frontal assaults had failed repeatedly. So they switched tactics again.

* * *

They were a tightly knit group of individuals, mixed heritage and different species, yet united in their willingness to spill blood and take huge risks for their money. A group of infiltrators, combat engineers and biotics, the Blackhole mercenaries were highly effective and ruthless, known throughout the galaxy as the possible next rival for the Blood Pack and the Eclipse. Originally a group from the Taung Republic, a lot of their members were still hailing from there, though there were also turians, batarians and asari in their ranks, even a few salarians. And their services were expensive. Very expensive.

Using their signature dull, black armors the group of nine beings nearly crawled across the ground. Their extensive training allowed them to move without making a sound and their armor was heat isolated, always only giving away as much heat as the environment, thus nearly invisible for heat vision. Short of their first target they stopped and lay low at the edge of a crater.

Dailik Firmnus had been a member of the cabal units in the turian military, before taking her leave and joining the Blackhole at her first chance, rising quickly in their ranks thanks to her superior training, experience and of course her biotic powers. This wasn't her first operation as leader of her own cell, but the first against a real army and not a group of pirates or criminals.

"Fist to Eye. You in position?", she whispered into the comm unit of her helmet, though she could have said it out loud without worrying that she could be heard. But it just felt right to whisper, as she was only about nine meters away from the batarian position.

_"Roger that Fist, Eye is in position. We're ready to go."_

"Fist to Brain. Are you ready?"

_"Roger Fist. The party can get started at your command."_

Dailik gave a few commands by using her omni tool, without opening the holographic display of course, and her squad began moving again. "Do it."

A scrambling signal was let loose and for a short amount of time every communication in the area was cut off. Several sniper rifles about three hundred meters away came to life and using a sound suppressing system their shots were never heard, not even by the users themselves. Six bullets the size of a grain with heightened mass found their mark and five batarians dropped dead because their torso were hit and the shock killed them instantly, while one of their comrades was thrown back because his head just exploded inside his helmet.

Crossing the remaining distance in a sprint the members of Dailiks unit nearly jumped into the emplacement, using the VI system in their helmets to pick targets. Biotics flared, barriers were scrambled, blades were pushed into bodies. All in all, the fight was over immediately, the remaining soldiers to confused to react before they were dead.

"Fist to Eye. Good job, but keep on the lookout", the female turian said to her sniper unit, before turning to one of her men at her right. "Secure this position. Hack their computers and get as much data about the layout of the fortress as you can." Without waiting for a reply she turned away, intent on sending a signal to her superior.

Five minutes later six more Blackhole squads moved in through the cleared corridor, as security systems were hacked and silently disabled, false video feds were send and then... a sophisticated Virus was led loose.

* * *

"What just happened?", asked Balak and jumped up from his command chair. He had not slept for nearly two days and not washed himself for even longer than that, but he took his duties seriously, by now running mostly on drugs. He had nearly dozed off, when the alarm sirens lit up and again adrenaline began pumping through his veins.

"Um... we're dead."

"... what?" His mind nearly boggling he stared at the one that had answered, an older soldier whose name he could not remember. Not that he tried, there were more important things to take care off.

"The system says we're dead. All of us." A shrug. "Most likely a bug. Stuff like that happens."

The Tourmark snarled. "Bugs don't just happen while we're under attack. Find out what's wrong and fix it!"

"Yes sir, I..." The alarm stopped immediately and the soldier looked puzzled at his screen. "We're back. Like nothing ever happened, only the usual interferences in the outer perimeters."

"I don't trust this. There is someone in our systems, find him!"

"Sir." His adjutant, a Draunk who had served with him for several years by now, stepped up to him. "Our systems are cut off from the outside. If there is a hacker in our sensory banks, then he must be inside the fortress itself."

"... damn it." Now fully awake, thanks to a small dose of the drug Long Haul which suppresses the need for sleep completely, Balak marched to his communications officer. "Contact every outlying encampment, I want reports from them immediately and every five minutes after. All our forces are to be on alert. And switch to cable, I don't want our radio to be intercepted." A small pause, then he added: "And give me a secure channel to the Strategos."

Then he turned back to his adjutant. "Double the guards for every important position and place a unit on every corner. The remaining forces are to find these fuckers."

"Yes sir."

"The Strategos for your Tourmark, at your station."

Without a last glance to any of his men, neither them he just gave orders nor those yelling reports at him, he all but stalked back to his command chair and sat down, pressing a button on the arm rest. Only half a second later the small holographic monitor included in his chair snapped open directly in front of him, showing the battered and weary face of Strategos Vorkazz.

"Tourmark Balak. What is it?", came his voice, filled with tiredness and fatigue. It seemed the constant attacks and bombings in the last days were taking a toll even on him, denying him sleep and much needed rest.

"Strategos Vorkazz", replied Balak, tilting his head to the left like any good subordinate should do when talking to a command officer. It was a reminder of the time of the caste system, the now defunct old social order, only still used in the military, like a salute in the human armed forces. "I have reasons to believe that an infiltration team has entered the facilities and hacked into our systems. I request permission to activate defense protocol Behemoth and to reboot the entire system."

The Strategos eyes got huge, before he sighed. "How sure are you on this?"

"Very. If there are indeed enemy hackers in our systems, they could-"

"I am well aware of the consequences!", the older batarian hissed, before he took a small pause. Then he said: "Permission granted. But make it fast, if we are attacked now we would be in a very difficult position."

* * *

Rebooting a system that consists of hundreds over hundreds of different VIs, backup systems and is responsible for an entire fortress city holding over 40.000 people in it's deep bunkers is not done lightly. Ventilation, heating, everything was regulated by it. If it is turned off and then on again it could take hours before it runs smoothly again, sometimes too long to keep people breathing. But when faced with the possibility of an enemy infiltration team in their midst and already arms deep in their software programs, an Union officer is easy to choose.

When suddenly the light turned off, the civilians in the great evacuation halls panicked. Children screamed, people began yelling questions and suddenly they were cut off from everything. The soldiers, about 8.500 of them left after the first days of battle, kept their calm and just switched to night vision on their helmets.

Those who were the actual reason for this whole action however...

"What is this?", asked one of the mercenaries in black armor and stared up to the ceiling, as if the lights would come up again. The Blackhole mercenaries had cleared not only one but four separate fortifications at an entrance to the bunker system, using lightning fast attacks while blocking any distress signals. The door was open, so to say, and the next wave for the attack was already en route, while the batarians where still blind.

Or perhaps not.

A few seconds the three mercenaries were basked in darkness, only illuminated by the glowing of their weapons status screens, before the lights were back up. But now they were an angry red, not the soft yellow like before.

_"Warning. Defense Protocol Behemoth now in place. All personal to their stations. Warning. Defense Protocol Behemoth now in place. All personal to their stations."_

"I don't like the sound of this..."

A rumble could be heard in the distance, as if massive amounts of stone and steel were moving. It was also the moment when, of course not to hear, the sensors were back up and detected the drop ships on the outside. Then sirens filled the air.

"And I don't like the sound of THIS!"

* * *

When the Pirate's Alliance leaders had decided to attack Camala, it had been for a tactical reason. While heavily fortified and well defended, it was the main supplier of Element Zero for the Batarian Union, one of their lifelines. Without the deliveries of the blue, precious element, the Union military would be out of energy in a matter of month', if not even faster, bound to normal FTL-travel, unable to use the relays. In other words, crippled.

But attacking Camala was also a huge risk. Since the Union had been founded, they had kept their distance from the pirates in the Traverse, leaving them alone at best and sending out small patrol flotillas at worst. Attacking one of their most important colonies was not a mere provocation, it was a challenge at highest order.

And it was also a race against time, because the Pirate's Alliance leaders had no interest in facing the Union fleet in open battle. It was their best bet to just attack, destroy, grab whatever they can and then run before the hammer comes down.

This in mind, after four days of softening their prey up, they threw everything at them.

* * *

**22****nd**** December 2163**

Shortie dove for cover, barely able to get behind the long mess table, before the explosion came and killed several of his attackers. He had by now lost every sense for time, only the small clock in the upper left corner of his vision told him what date it was. Huh, already another day? He had not felt how the former had passed, being busy with retreating and retreating and letting these bastards bleed for every step.

The first hours of the battle had been total chaos and confusion. First the lights turned off, then Protocol Behemoth was set in place and then the pirates came over them like a flood. Though, pirates wasn't the right designation for them anymore, he had long since abandoned that word and replaced it with barbarians or mongrels or just enemies. Because these were no mere bandits, only trying to steal and get a few quick credits, this was an enemy force trying to subjugate this colony.

He had no idea how, but they had found a way to get around the outer defenses of the fortress and into the bunker system itself, thus Behemoth was put in place. Suddenly the slaver gangs and raiders were inside the hallways and the outer centurias were isolated from the inside, fighting for their bare lives. With the deeper levels completely sealed off from the outside and the upper levels, the skies and areas around the fortress controlled by the pirates / barbarians, the centurias trapped did the only thing they could: Digging in their heels and fighting for their bare lives.

Thus Shortie found himself in the by now destroyed mess hall, splintered tables and banks littering the ground around them, craters from grenades in the walls, two of the four entrances barred off. His assault rifle had jammed several hours ago and he had been forced to switch to a shotgun and his sidearm, both not his favorite weapons, but he managed.

With him were six of his comrades from his own centuria, three soldiers from the 422, a nurse from the medical center and two pilots who were now groundbound. All in all a very colorful bunch, all just staying in cover, shooting at everything that moved and trying to stay alive as long as possible, killing as many dimwits, so called by one of the pilots, while doing that.

"GRENADE!", Shortie yelled and threw one of his last remaining explosives over the improvised barricade, forcing their attackers into cover for a second. It was enough to get up themselves again and return fire and a moment later assault rifles, side arms, a few shotguns and even a grenade launcher filled the entrance of the mess hall and the corridor with slugs.

Two minutes and nine dead pirates later they eased off, catching their breath and allowing themselves a short pause. After they could not see any more enemies those not on watch sat down and huddled into a corner, around a small area designated for sleeping. Four men and one women were laying there, their wounds only marginally cared for and their bleeding barely stopped. If not for the drugs in their systems, they would have been dead four times over.

"Are we getting out of here?"

Shortie turned to the side and saw the young nurse who had asked him the question. Though she was wearing the uniform of a soldier, including a light combat armor, and carried a side arm with her, she was a part of the medical staff, the 1052. It wasn't their job to go into battle, it was their job to keep the soldiers wounded alive and those still fighting supplied with drugs and first aid packages.

"Yes", he answered after a few seconds. "Though I can not promise you it will be alive."

Her face fell and she swallowed. How old was she anyway? Twenty? Twenty two? Military service in the Union began with 14 years of age, though the first four years were testing, training and hard drill, before finally entering active service with 18. Somehow, Shortie felt like he was the older one here and though he was afraid too, he suppressed the feeling.

"Don't worry. Should we fall, they will only have our corpses."

Because there was no worse fate in war, than those of a captured female soldier.

* * *

**23****rd**** December 2163**

To say Gatatog Skarr was angry was like saying that the universe is kind of big. No, he was furious beyond comprehension, even more so when Krang Tovan, the insufferable four eyed asshole, had the nerve to DEMAND of him to conquer the damn planet. It was essential for their plans! As if he didn't knew that.

To make matters worse, he felt not like a conquering warlord, though he had not conquered much yet, but more of a babysitter. Everyone demanded more spoils of the war than promised, the Blood Pack was howling for blood, the Blackhole were claiming their money, crews from different gangs were fighting among each other. In other words, he was occupied more with bashing in heads and yelling, than ordering his troops around.

And though he had the superiority in space, his men were bashing their heads against a massive wall of stone down on the ground. The three main fortresses were still standing and refusing to give up, even after he had bombed out the fourth with using the few nuclear warheads he had at his disposal. And just doing the same to the other bunker systems was not an option, as they were filled with Element Zero to the brim, thus holding the most important bounty of them all... and large parts of the civilian population.

Unknown to Skarr, someone else was having the same thoughts. It was of utmost importance for the scenario, that the War would keep going. If the Batarian Union could hold Camala, they would remain strong enough to crush the Pirates in a matter of months. A decision was reached.

* * *

A tiny pebble can cause a rock slide.

This a truth known to many but understood by few. A notion here, a death there, a decision made different, only small changes and yet they can make all the difference.

An opened air duct, big enough for a small drone to fit through, was only a tiny detail in the layout of a massive bunker system. If it allowed to open a door from the inside however, using a small drone controlled by a skilled operator, it made all the difference.

* * *

"Mercenary forces in sector 5, sector 8 and sector 17!"

"632 is threatened to be overrun!"

In the midst of all this Chaos, Balak was nearly about to leash out at his own man and pummel one of them to death. He would not do it, he still needed them, but his frustration and despair was rising with every minute. How could have gone things so wrong?

It should have been impossible for these barbarians to get inside the lower levels, at least not without forcing their way through heavily defended, two meters thick bulkheads. But something, or someone, had opened one of these for them and a force of about ten enraged krogan warriors came through, swatting the batarian soldiers to the side like insects. Soon, the other bulkheads followed and the remaining defenders were attacked on all fronts.

"Explosion in sector 7, 532 under heavy attack!"

The earth was shaken by another explosion, much nearer to the position of Tourmark Balak's command center.

"We need reinforcements! Get a message to Central Command!"

"Negative sir, Central Command is under attack themselves!"

"AARGH!" With a mighty cry of fury, Balak threw a chair through the barely lit room. It hit the wall with a dull thump and then crashed to the ground, but no one even looked at it. "What forces do we have left?"

A second no answer came, then one of his men yelled over the noise: "We have lost the first to the third, pockets of resistance are still holding in the upper levels. The fourth, fifth and sixths are engaged in combat and taking heavy losses. Seventh and eight are deployed at important positions and holding... so far."

Balak sighed. That was it. With all his combat centurias already in battle or lost, he only had his supply and medical units at hand and he needed them to coordinate and support his other troops. No reinforcements were coming and his units were besieged on all fronts, making defeat certain.

And then...

"Sir..."

The defeat and downcast voice of his communications officer let him turn around, even under the circumstances. He saw the unbelieving expression and immediately knew that something terrible must have happened. "What is it?"

"... Central Command has gone silent after heavy attack."

He took a second to take this in, then he just snapped: "Put me on speaker. I want that everyone in this whole damn hole can hear me."

A second hesitation, then: "Done sir."

Balak needed another second, before he began to speak.

* * *

Everywhere around them were people fighting. It didn't matter anymore from which Centuria they were from, the Batarian Soldiers just tried to shoot at everything not clad in their red and black hard suits. When their rifles overheated, they switched to their sidearms, when their sidearms overheated they switched to their knifes. And although they had in theory the advantage of position, the total and utter chaos turned that into a disadvantage as they were nearly unable to mount a proper defense.

_"This is Tourmark Kala'iras Balak commanding officer of the Second Tower speaking."_ The rumbling voice of him filled the bunker system and everyone, really everyone, was hearing it. A short pause followed, a pause filled with the explosion of grenades, the screams of the dying and the firing of weapons. _"I hereby take command of the South Eastern Camala Thema. However, I speak to you not as your commanding officer, but as a fellow soldier and proud batarian."_

_"We all have sworn an oath. To protect the Union, to serve and to die for the batarian people. Now that time has come. In the depths of this fortress, thousands of civilians are praying for us and hoping that we will be victorious. We are the only ones standing between them and certain death, slavery and rape. So I ask of you, my fellow soldiers, to die standing. To take with you as many enemies as you can. To keep on fighting no matter what happens. Not for the Batarian Union. Not for the Element Zero on which we are standing on. But for those who need us to protect them."_

_"May the Ancestors bless you and welcome you in their ranks. Balak out."_

* * *

**24****th**** December 2163**

It was a massive fleet that came through the Relay, a big, menacing one, powerful enough to give even the turian ones a run for their money. Sure, not as advanced and neither as feared, but strong enough to scare off any pirates and mercenaries.

But power is worth nothing if not combined with speed. When the batarian heavy cruisers and frigates dropped out of FTL inside the Camala System, they found no pirates there, only the remains of a few single vessels.

The Strategos in command of the fleet stared at the display in front of him, his face not betraying any emotions. "Are we receiving any signals?"

"No sir, it seems we are to late."

He led the comment slide this time, only because it was the truth. "Keep looking. Send teams to the surface. I want a preliminary report on my desk in three hours. Damage done, survivors, those most likely responsible party for this."

"Yes sir."

* * *

**24****th**** December 2163** – The response fleet of the Batarian Union reaches the Camala System, but the attackers are already gone. Two of the four heavy fortresses of Camala have been destroyed and sacked, another one completely destroyed. The south eastern fortress had withstood the attack and nearly 40.000 civilians could be saved.

* * *

**?**

Things were going just as planned. The lower ones would be ready for the war. Perhaps.


End file.
